


White Feather (Old version)

by Jupitarryn



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game), Original Work
Genre: :), Abuse, Angst, First World War, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Fun-sized chapters, Gay Romance, Heavy LGBTQ+ Themes, Heavy Philosophical Themes, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I support Walter rights; rights to SHUT THE HELL UP, Idiots to Idiot Lovers, JoJo References, LGBTQ Themes, LOSING A CHESS MATCH HAS DIRE CONSEQUENCES, M/M, Mainly-OC cast, Major Original Character(s), Mental Breakdown, Mental Disorder, Mental Health Issues, My fucking god! These bitches gay! Good for them! Good for them., OC X CANON, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Suicide, Tags may or may not be in chronological order, War Crime, Wartime, Wartime Romance, We live in a society, World War 1, hello LGBTQ community, help me, idiots to lovers, it's kinda hard to listen to stupid horse by 100 gecs because of this, mental issues, ok this is honestly terrible, poggers, seriously a lot of Jojo references, so glad i'm reworking most of it lol, this is gonna be a long one boys, very gay, wilson's brain stops functioning.jpg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupitarryn/pseuds/Jupitarryn
Summary: (IMPORTANT: This story's going to be COMPLETELY rewritten! That's right baby, I'm completely starting anew because, in my opinion, this version is TERRIBLE. You can still read it to reminisce over my past mistakes and all, but PLEASE don't think of this as an example of my current writing ability and mindset. I promise the new rewritten one will be way better, it's just gonna take some time before I finish at least the first few chapters. Thank you all for your patience, I'm trying my very hardest to improve!)England, 1914. Wilson Percival Higgsbury, an aspiring scientist, has his dreams held back by the effects of the war that had recently dawned on the world. Refusing to enlist as a soldier and to fight for his country, he’s quickly painted as a coward by society, shown by his collection of white feathers that countless women have insulted him with. As events lead to meeting another young man and his friends who share Wilson’s beliefs, the world he once knew seems to turn on him completely. And with the many hardships they endure, the feeble question at the back of his mind grows over time; is his rebellion against society the right path, or will karma bite him in the back when the time comes?
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Wilson (Don't Starve) & Original Character(s), Wilson (Don't Starve) Vs. Original Character(s), Wilson (Don't Starve) Vs. Walter Walkur (OC), Wilson (Don’t Starve)/Original Character, Wilson (Don’t Starve)/Wren Walkur (OC), Wilson/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading. This is my first time uploading a story onto here, so any feedback is appreciated! 
> 
> I’ve actually spent over a year writing chapters and planning this story out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, because there’s much more to come!

As night began to fall, the puddles rippled on the rain-covered pavement. The rain poured heavier than Wilson's footsteps as he walked home, wearing a yellow raincoat and carrying a matching umbrella to shield himself. He continued to pace along the dim path, lit only by lamp-posts. A car sped past Wilson, splashing him with water; fortunately, he managed to cover his hair with the umbrella in time. He sighed in frustration, his feet still rigid from the shock. He tilted his head upwards to the rain and stared glumly at the glowing lamp-post before crossing the road.

After his dull journey, he finally reached his house. It was fairly isolated, surrounded by trees. He eased the door closed and slid out of his raincoat, revealing a bright red sweater vest over a white shirt. Wilson hopped upstairs as fast as his tired feet could allow him and collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

The next day, he opened his eyes and awoke uneasily. Radiant beams of light shone through the window. He must have slept for a long time, as it seemed to be around midday. Wilson groaned and hauled himself out of his rickety bed and got back to the experiment he had started yesterday. He spent countless hours in his house conducting all sorts of experiments and ideas with the hope that one of them will be the one. Although he loved science, the process of coming up with new ideas and trying them out only for them to fail in a puff of smoke seemed to be turning into a bit of a chore.

Wilson, however, carried on anyway, for it was his true passion.

"Am... am I running out of materials?" Wilson asked himself. He checked the cupboard, which was almost empty. Then, he thought to himself for a while.  
"Well, I can't just go and get more easily, especially not at this time in 1914 and the war going on or whatever." He sighed in frustration. Pacing around his room, he kept muttering angrily to himself. "Why does war even happen in the first place? All it does is kill people and destroy resources! And then people try and force me to practically commit suicide 'for my country' by handing me these stupid white feathers and calling me a coward just because I don't want to die! I mean, I have so much scientific potential! Am I really going to let that go to waste just because some filthy politicians decided ‘Oh hey! Why don’t we start a pointless war that will completely disable our people and put everyone in danger _just because we bloody can???_ ’"

His rant dragged on for a long while, becoming more and more intense until Wilson ended up trying to talk faster than he could breathe. Eventually, Wilson took a deep breath in, exhausted from all the rambling. "So... how on Earth am I supposed to get resources for my project?" He placed his hand on his chin and gazed around the room he had grown so familiar with. After pacing around for four minutes, he remembered that the natural world has all sorts of hidden treasures for a scientist like him. So, he decided to set on his quest, hoping to strike gold... or, well, any other element that would work.

He pushed open his front door with relative ease and began to tread on the rough, earthy ground in front of him. War made resources scarce, so he had to go outside more and search for materials for his next scientific experiment. He trod further away from his desolate, rickety house and into the forest surrounding it.

Ten minutes had passed when Wilson reached a vast field with a gaping crater left by an explosion of some sort. He stopped in his tracks almost immediately to examine the scene. What could have caused such a violent explosion? There were copious amounts of rubble at the edges, a part of which seemed to be covering something; with hesitation, he started heading for the pile of debris. When he got there, he saw what seemed to be a long tuft of hair sticking out of the ground. Kneeling down, he started to shuffle rocks and pebbles away from the centre.

As he cleared the area more he uncovered a vague shape of what looked like a human being tilted to one side. The body seemed to be still, unmoving, lifeless. Wilson brushed the finer debris off the legs, which were bruised and battered. He made his way to the head, which was dense with hair. Slowly, he lifted the head, his chest filling with panic. Did he just discover a dead body...? The raging war going on shrank his optimism, making him feel absolutely sure that he had a dead man in his arms... until he heard a feeble cough that interrupted his train of thought.

The feeble cough soon turned violent as this supposed corpse came back to life. Shaking the dirt off his dulled clothes, the body revealed himself to be a fairly healthy young man with shoulder-length, amber-tinted hair. That is, healthy excluding the abundance of bruises and wounds from the rubble.

"Hello...? Are you alright?" Wilson asked in a soft, nervous tone.

"Y...yeah, I'm fi..." The man stopped mid-sentence, clenching his fists and teeth as if from intense pain. Then, Wilson realised – there was a gaping gash that spread across his right arm, bleeding violently.

Wilson flinched in shock. He could do nothing but stare at this suffering soul until he came up with a solution. Finally, after a long pause, Wilson spoke. "Well, my house should only be around ten minutes away from here and I do have some medical knowledge, so I could try to heal your wounds there. That is, of course, if you're fit to walk...?"

Two minutes had passed and they had already started to walk to Wilson's house. He had made a makeshift bandage for the man out of a few clean handkerchiefs. Once again, his mind raced with questions. Who was he and how did he get there? He pondered on and on until he finally decided to start a conversation. “So… who are you?”

The man spoke. “Oh, yes… I apologise for not introducing myself sooner! Where are my manners? Could it have been the impact to my head, perhaps...? Oh, my name is Wren, Wren Walkur.”

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury,” he replied. Wren stifled a laugh, which mildly confused him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, it’s just that, well, I have a cat, and he’s called Wilson too!”

“Really?”

“Yes! And thinking about it, your appearance reminds me of him too! Don’t take that as an insult, by the way. He’s great, really.”

Wilson chuckled. “Can you tell me more? I like cats, they’re fascinating creatures.”

“Right??”

They both laughed and joked for most of the journey, which brightened up both of their afternoons rather easily. Their conversation trailed along to many different topics, sometimes taking many different paths at the same time. Eventually, Wilson’s mind came back to the question he had pondered before; who was he? And why did he seem so familiar?

“I think I recognise you from somewhere, but I don’t know where…”

“Well, most people recognise me from my career in horse racing. I’ve become almost famous at this poi-“

Wilson clicked his fingers in realisation. “That’s it! The horse races! At Cheltenham Racecourse, wasn’t it? 19...12 or something?”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve had many races there, I wouldn’t be surprised!”

“I thought I had recognised you from somewhere!” Wilson beamed. “You know, I remember that day I saw you for the first time. I was in a bit of a struggle with my housing and financial situation, but going to the races and having that day off really helped me manage my stress.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! I love making people happy, so that means a lot to me!”

Shortly after that, they reached his house. Wilson gestured towards his front door, which was left ajar; Wilson realised in embarrassment that he had forgotten to close it before leaving. Despite Wilson’s internal screaming, Wren accepted the offer gladly and stepped in, followed by Wilson. “I know, I know, it’s not that impressive but I didn’t really invite you here for a house tour. Anyway, if you could sit right here and be a little patient, I have just the thing here…” Wren sat down and waited for what seemed to be ten minutes but were only three until he came back with an ointment and a roll of bandages. He applied the ointment and bandages. “If you can just keep pressure on that bandage by holding it, that would be really helpful.”

Wren flinched from pain, however it seemed to die away after a short while. They continued to chat until the sun had begun to set. “Thanks, by the way. You know, for helping me out of the rubble there. I… honestly don’t know where I am, do you think we’d be able to take a train? Is it that far away?” He asked. Wilson leaned against a window, placing his hand on the window sill. “Depends where your house is.”

“Gloucester.”

“You might need to be more specific on that, however I don’t suppose that’s too far away… I mean, were you on a walk from your house? Wouldn’t you just have to walk back from where you came?”

Wren froze, realising how idiotic he had sounded. “...Oh, yeah, right… Why hadn't I thought about that before?” He looked away in a mixture of shame and disappointment in himself.

“Well, if you need it, there’s a train station not too far away from here, all you really need to do is walk downhill and take a left. Or at least, I think so? I’ve been a bit forgetful about these things recently, haven’t really been to many places outside of this house… but, y’know, if I leave I might miss an opportunity for a great scientific discovery!” Wilson wore a faint but meaningful smile of ambition.

Although he was fascinated by him, Wren couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned for him, as he himself loved going outside and to different places even though he could admit he was a bit of a homebody himself. He thought about it for a little while before he came up with an idea.

“Hey, why don’t you come to my house sometime? We could have a chat and a cup of tea, maybe I could even introduce you to a few of my friends!”

Wilson was quite shocked by this request, more than he wanted to believe. Nobody had really invited him over for ages. In fact, he had become quite lonely ever since he left and bought his own house. And as much as he loved science, he felt like he needed a break from the tedious routine that had become of his recent works. “Sure, actually! What day and time would be best for you?” He asked, his face lightening up.  
“I guess… around 11am tomorrow? Does that sound good to you?”

“Sounds excellent!”

Wren stood up, still clenching the bandage on his arm. “Well, I’d best get going now. It’s getting dark.”

“So soon? What about your wound?”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. You’ve helped me a lot with it though, thank you! So, see you tomorrow then?” Wren gasped. “Oh, I almost forgot! How would you be able to get to my house if you didn’t have the address? Here, let me just…” He took a pen out of his pocket and a small piece of paper from another and wrote down the details of his address before handing it to Wilson.

“So you forget important things too? Hahaha, I do that. In fact, that’s the reason that I left the door open. I didn’t even realise it until we got there!”

A grin spread across Wren’s round face; he had always thought of himself as stupid when he did something like that, but knowing that someone else went through the same thing comforted him. “There we go! I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, but I need to get going now. Take care!”

“You too!” Wilson yelled as Wren exited, shutting the front door quietly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, dim beams of red-tinted amber shone through one of the windows as he woke up. Wilson checked his pocket watch laying on the table. It was 8:07am, slightly earlier than what he was used to. He rubbed his eyes and got out of bed, putting on a shirt, black trousers and a maroon jacket. He yawned, staring out into the deep blue sky.  After collecting his thoughts and bringing himself back to reality, he had soon remembered the plan about going to Wren’s house later that day. He smiled to himself. Wilson was surprised at how much he was looking forward to today; it made him realise that he hadn’t really looked forward to much in a long time, apart from his aspirations of becoming a well-respected, world-renowned scientist. His hope and faith in this were what kept him going. The belief that all of his efforts will pay off one day motivated him to keep working towards his passion instead of just giving up and settling for another job like most people he knew made every experiment, every thought worth it.

He decided to pass some time by writing a couple of things down in his notebook about all of his scientific findings throughout the past few days. He kept going for hours, until he looked at his watch. 

“10:20. I should probably get going,” he muttered to himself. He paced around a little, double-checking that he had everything he needed. After being sure that he did have everything, he opened the door and stepped outside, ensuring to actually close the door this time.

The journey was quite tedious and even confusing at one point, but he finally got to the correct address. He looked up. A giant mansion-like house stood before him, with beige-tinged bricks and white frames around the door and windows. Wilson was almost intimidated by the absolute size of it. The pearly-white wooden door had a golden-brass handle and a refined door frame. After several minutes of admiring the house, he decided to knock on the door, which made a rich, satisfying noise.

Soon enough, he heard faint footsteps approaching the door on the other side. They got louder and louder until he heard the door unlocking and opening. “Hello!” Wren was at the door, beaming warmly. “Come in, come in! I have a lot to show you!” Wilson followed Wren into his grand house. “Thanks for being on-time! Usually when I have guests over, they’re always late for some reason.” Wren chuckled to himself. “Once I invited my brother over and he was three hours late! Three hours! You could accomplish so much in that time!”

He led Wilson into a room with a mahogany table and a warm, copper-rimmed fireplace. The walls were a pale yellow and a beautiful chandelier lit up the room. “My God, this is wonderful! How were you able to afford all of this??” Wilson looked around in awe, so much awe that Wren was mildly amused by it. “Well, I guess my job pays off quite well,” he replied softly. “Please, take a seat.” He pulled out a chair placed snugly against the table for him.

“Thank you!” Wilson said as he sat down.

“My pleasure! Now if you can just hold on a minute,” Wren beamed, “I have something for you in the kitchen. Stay right there, let me go get it.” 

After that, he strode along energetically to the kitchen. Wilson twiddled his fingers idly before Wren entered again, with two plates of apple crumble in his hands. He laid one plate in front of Wilson and sat next to him, putting the other plate down. “I hope you like it, I had to cut down on the sugar due to war rations and all, but I think with the natural sugar in apples it’ll taste fine- _OH MY GOD, I forgot the cutlery.”_ Wren let out a deep sigh and was about to get up again until someone ran down the stairs and into the room. A short, stout young boy— no,  _ girl _ of a young age ran down to where Wren and Wilson were sitting. “Ah, Winsor! Could you be a darling and get some cutlery from the kitchen? I laid some on the counter.”

“Sure thing!” Winsor replied as she bolted towards the kitchen. 

“That’s Winsor, my half-sister. She lives here with me. There’s also two others and, uh, a  _ couple  _ of pets.”

“What do you mean by ‘a couple’ pets? How many?” Wilson asked, curious. Before Wren could respond, a storm of dogs sprinted into the room, startling them both. They all jumped up excitedly to greet the two, and Wren had his arms out towards them. “Hello, darlings!” He yelled with a huge smile on his face.

“Good grief, how many even ARE there??” Wilson exclaimed.

“27.”

“27???”

“Yeah- oh, 28 including the cat.” Wren turned around to face a black cat with a white muzzle, belly and paws. It was wearing a red collar and sat on the other end of the table. Wren laughed as all the dogs ran off to join Winsor in the kitchen. “Wilson, meet Wilson.”

“Oh yeah, is this the cat you were telling me about yesterday?” Wilson watched the cat lick one of its paws. Wren started to laugh, eventually laughing so much that a tear formed in his right eye. “What’s so funny?”

Wren tried catching his breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” Wren wiped a tear from his eye, “that he looks almost exactly like you! I mean, look!” Wren fumbled and reached out a small mirror from his pocket and held it in front of Wilson. He looked back and forth between his own reflection and the cat.

“Stars and atoms, you’re right!” Wilson began to laugh with him as well. Soon they were both laughing hysterically. Winsor ran back with the cutlery. “Here you go! Hey Wren, who’s this? Why are you guys laughing so much?” Her voice had a slight Cockney feel to it.

Wren took a deep breath from his mouth, trying to calm himself down. “Thank you, Winsor! Also, this is a friend I met yesterday that I’m quite sure is an exact human replica of our cat,” Wren said as he burst into laughter again. “He even has the same name!”

“...Oh I can see it now!” She giggled loudly. “Anyways, I’m off to the garden again. If ya need anything, just gimme a shout!” She bounced off, her short, messy, dirty-blonde hair trailing after her. After the laughter died down, the two began to eat the apple crumble prepared by Wren earlier.

Wilson ate a mouthful, his eyes widening. “This is delicious! You made this?? This is the best thing I’ve had in ages!” He exclaimed appreciatively, which flattered Wren. 

“Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! I do most of the cooking around the house. People usually tell me that there should be a woman doing the cooking and housework, but I’m comfortable doing those myself. Besides, everyone keeps pressuring me to get a wife and have her settle down with me? It’s bloody annoying. I don’t want a wife, and I’ve never really wanted one in the first place. I wish people would stop saying stupid things like that…” Wren stared down, annoyed, until he looked back up at Wilson. “You know what, I quite like spending time with you! You’re the nicest I’ve met in a long time!”

“Heh, my pleasure!” Wilson finished off his apple crumble. “We should do this again sometime!”

“Agreed!” Wren also finished off the last of his crumble. “Do you want a little tour around the house? I still haven’t introduced you to the two others!”

“Sounds wonderful!” With that, they both got out of their seats and walked off to explore the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know it's not a Wednesday or a Friday, but this story is in its very early stages compared to what its finished release will be. I'm enthusiastic to get the introductory chapters out there so that you guys can see the main storyline!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this next chapter!

Eventually, in the middle of the house tour, they got to a room upstairs that had someone else inside. They opened the door, revealing a small room with a bed at the left corner and a desk on the right. On it was a typewriter, a couple of notebooks, many pieces of paper and countless pens and pencils, scattered in a disorganised manner.

In it stood a tall, slender figure with long, flowing wavy brown hair with tight rolls of hair at either side. A purple cloak-like jacket flowed gracefully over a light blue shirt with an upturned collar and dark violet trousers. Short, rolled sleeves hung above long, sky-blue gloves that covered their forearms. It wasn’t like anything Wilson had seen before, which caught his interest. This strange person seemed to be staring idly out of the window.

“This is Wry… hey, Wry? Wry? You there, bud?”

“Is she not much of a talker or…?”

Wilson’s words seemed to have caught the person’s attention. “She?” Wry’s voice was quite low and masculine, but soft.

“...Oh,” Wilson responded in surprise.

Wry spun around to face the two in the doorway, revealing an indigo bowtie with a crescent moon badge in the middle; the same moon crest held the jacket together as a singular button. He chuckled to himself at this comment. “It’s the hair, isn’t it? Don’t worry — you’re not the first to make that mistake. My name is Wry Vincent Lloyd, and you?”

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury.”

“Pleasure.” Wry smiled gently before turning around and approaching him. He lent out his hand and gently shook Wilson’s. He towered over Wilson as he stepped closer, bending over slightly. “I really like your hair. How did you style it like that?”

Wilson was quite flattered by this compliment as he took great pride in his hairstyle. “Why, thank you! It means a lot to me!”

Wren’s head jolted up. “Oh, I love your hair as well!”

“Aww, thanks a lot!”

Still examining Wilson’s meticulous haircut, Wry paced around and leaned to view it from the side. “It reminds me of a crescent moon, honestly.” He returned to his original posture and glanced at Wilson’s hands before looking back up at his face. “Say, do you work with any sciences?”

“Yes – wait, how’d you know??”

“I figured, seeing the slight chemical stains on your hands and coat,” he commented smugly. “Well, you seem like a lovely fellow, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Wren asked, “Hey, Wry, have you seen Warrick anywhere?”

“Hm?” Wry’s actions seemed to be very elegant but expressive, like that of an actor. “Oh, he went out somewhere. He said he’d gone to the forest, although it’s hard to tell, he’s a tad bit impulsive when it comes to things. Quite unpredictable.” He tilted his head towards Wren. “So, Wren, this is your new friend?”

Wren smiled warmly. “Well, we met rather unusually. I had myself quite injured yesterday, which I’ve told you about. He was the Good Samaritan who came to my aid, and we seem to get along really well. So, yes, he is a friend! Or, at least…” He turned to Wilson, unusually bashful, “…if you consider me one?”

“Of course, You’re great! Thank you, by the way! I haven’t had a good time like this in a while.”

His smile grew wider as he started to sway a little. “My pleasure, honestly! I’m flattered!” Wren thought to himself for a bit before asking, “Say, why don’t I show you around my room?” They waved to Wry as they left.

They were going to go to Wren’s room, but their plan was delayed by hours and hours of pure distraction, much more time than they would have suspected. They finally arrived at Wren’s room; he grabbed the doorknobs and swung the double doors gently open. A calming breeze drafted through a large window to the left of the room with orange curtains flowing in harmony, revealing a beautiful starry sky and a hill with many flowers surrounding a tall tree. To the left of the window was a king-size bed with smooth, yellow sheets. On the other side of the room was a rich, wooden shelf holding many gold trophies and awards; many colourful banners were strewn across the wall that listed many racecourses and dates. One for 1909, one for 1910, 1911 and so on. There was also a copper chandelier that lit the place up cheerfully.

Wilson stepped in. He examined the quality wooden flooring and looked around with curiosity and fascination. “It’s wonderful! I must say, you live in a terrific place!” This comment made Wren beam rather shyly as he wandered around his room. Wilson stumbled towards the grand wooden shelf and looked up in fascination. “Wow, how many awards even ARE there?!” He looked down and moved his foot slightly, putting his arms behind his back. “You must be really liked and respected,” he praised, but in a moderately dejected manner. Wincing slightly, he turned his head back to Wren.

“Hey, is there anything wrong…? You seem to be a bit upset…”

“Oh, it’s… it’s nothing.”

“No go on, you can tell me if you need to.”

“…well, it’s just that… you’ve achieved so much. You’ve actually done so much and gone so far. You’ve bought a nice house and made it even nicer, you have a family and many pets that all love you and you must have a lot of fans that support you. What do I have? Sure, I keep working towards my dreams, but sometimes at night I start to wonder if… I’m actually going to get anywhere as a scientist.” A tear fell from his eye, which he tried to hold back. “Am I ever actually going to make it, or is my dream too unreasonable to be achieved, like everyone said it was? Am I just blinded and foolish?” His voice wavered.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that about yourself! I know you’re gonna make it!” Wilson looked at Wren, his face a mixture of hope and disbelief. “Listen, I know how you feel. I spent most of my teen years in heavy doubt. I kept contemplating and doubting my dreams. But I was very passionate about becoming a horse racer, and I had people who believed in me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had my dad and my brother. My brother wasn’t the best anyone could have, bless him, but he supported me through my self-doubt, and so did my father. Eventually, I gained confidence and started to enter little horse races around 1905, when I was only 15. I started doing that more and training more until I won my first big one in 1909. Up until then, my journey was quite rough. But now, I’ve done it! And if a little wuss such as my teen self could become so much, I’m certain that you’ll become so much more, just you wait!”

He was speechless. “I… thank you so much… I’m… nobody’s ever told me that before. I’ve never really had anyone believe in me like that.”

“Well, now you have me! I haven’t known you for long, but I already know that I’m going to support you if you need anything, any step of the way. I believe in you, Wilson; I want you to know that and remember it.” Wren put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder reassuringly. Wilson, tears now streaming down his face, pulled Wren into a big hug. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Mildly shocked, Wren hugged him back tenderly. “I’ll always be here for you.” They hugged for a while until Wilson slowly reversed out of Wren’s arms.

“My apologies, I… I didn’t mean to cry and make a fool out of myself. I mean, I’m honestly quite embarrassed to be a grown man crying over something petty like that-”

“I’m okay with it. In fact, I kind of encourage it. I find it quite unfair that we’re denied by society to cry; it’s only natural. Please, be yourself around me, I won’t judge.” Wren gave him a comforting smile. 

Wilson was astonished at how quickly Wren had accepted him. For all he knew, he would have just been laughed at again… He glanced at his watch before looking out at the stars. “I’d best get going, it’s quite late now.” Wilson headed towards the door and reached out toward the doorknob before… 

“Wait!”

Wilson turned his head quite suddenly.

“...Why d-don’t you stay for the night? It’s a really rough journey back, and I wouldn’t want you getting lost in the dark,” Wren suggested while rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh! Fair point, actually. Well… I don’t suppose that’s a bad idea, if you don’t mind, of course.”

“If I minded, why would I offer in the first place?”

“Heh. Again, a fair point. So, I feel like now would be a good time to sleep? Are there any guest rooms?” Wilson asked.

Wren thought for a moment before responding. “Well, I suppose there’s a bed in the basement, but it can get quite cold there… and lonely. And foreboding. And there’s a bunch of locks that are quite hard to open. And the walls are quite soundproof, so if you needed anything you probably wouldn’t be able to get it easily…”

“…Right. So… am I sleeping there or…?”

Wren gave out a sudden chortle. “Heavens, no! I really need to get a decent guest room sorted out… but in the meantime… hmm… Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t you sleep with me?”

“Huh??”

“…Oh!” Wren laughed nervously. “No, not like that! I meant as in you can sleep here, in this bed. It should be big enough for the two of us.”

“Ah, right! Well, I’ll consider it. So… hmm… I don’t really know what to do with my clothes…”

“Why don’t you borrow some of mine, I have a lot of outfits that I wouldn’t mind sharing with you! Here,” he took some blue pyjamas from a wardrobe next to the shelf. Why don’t you try these on? You look around the same size as me, so there shouldn’t be any worries about that. There’s a bathroom just around the corner of this room if you want to change there.”

“Oh, well, thank you!” Wilson took the clothes and hopped off to the bathroom to change. Wren took some crimson pyjamas out of the wardrobe and put them on. Around five minutes later, Wilson came back wearing the clothes Wren gave him with his original clothes in his arms. He placed them down on a chair beside the bed as Wren settled down in the bed. Wilson looked around rather aimlessly.

“Everything okay?” Wren asked.

“Y-Yeah, just… where should I sleep? I mean, I know we’ve already talked about this, but I don’t really want to be invasive… plus, we haven’t really known each other for long, I wouldn’t want it getting… well, awkward.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I understand. Well, do what you want, I suppose.”

Wilson tried to lie down and sleep on the floor, but he found that too uncomfortable. After trying many other places and sleeping positions, he found it was very difficult to fall asleep on the floor and decided that it would be better to just fight the potential awkwardness of sharing a bed, as at least he’d have somewhere decent to sleep. So, he climbed into bed next to Wren.

“This is really comfy!” Wilson exclaimed softly as he wriggled into the bed. “I can really feel the quality of these sheets! What are they made of?”

“Oh, the sheets? Well, they’re made of real silk. They were really expensive too, but I can’t object. After all, they were made and imported straight from Egypt, specifically Cairo. No wonder it took 50 days to get here.”

“Okay fancy,” Wilson chuckled. “Any other gold-coated items you have?” He smiled while dozing off. “Wren, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Wren whispered.

Wilson smiled lightly. “Don’t take this in a bad way, but you’re sort of an odd fellow.”

“What makes you say that?” Wren giggled drowsily.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just that you’re so… gentle. I don’t know any other man that would do this for someone, especially one that they just met a few days ago. And you’re unusually understanding, too. It’s just strange seeing a man being so open, especially in a society where we’re expected to act in a certain way. It’s quite charming, actually.”

Wren smiled widely; he hadn’t felt this flattered in a while, if ever, “...Th-thank you so much! That… that really means a lot to me… Oh, do you mind if I just…” Wren got out of bed and opened the curtains to let in the illuminating moonlight before climbing back into bed. He yawned and rested his head onto a fluffy pillow. “You know… today was really enjoyable. I haven’t had a good time like that in ages! I’m glad I met you.”

Something about this really seemed to warm Wilson’s heart. “Me too,” he whispered before drifting off to sleep. “Me… me too…” 

His eyes were closed now, and he was sleeping quite soundly. Wren moved closer, but made sure not to come so close that Wilson would wake up uncomfortable. He took a moment for himself to just enjoy the tranquillity of this moment before also slowly drifting to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

Daylight spread across the room as Wilson began to open his eyes. After a minute of recovering his senses, he heard a voice coming from the doorway. It was Wren’s. “Ah, you’re awake! Just in time as well! Breakfast is downstairs.”

Wilson yawned. “What… what time is it?”

“Around 9am,” Wren replied. “Now, come on! I also prepared an outfit for you.” He pointed to the chair that had a white shirt, white trousers and a yellow jacket. “Should I wait or go back down…?”

“Oh, you can go back down. I’m getting up now. Thank you, by the way.”

Wren went back downstairs and Wilson got up and changed into the clothes Wren offered him before going downstairs himself. He stumbled to the room where they had eaten yesterday and saw two plates of scones. “Everyone else has already eaten, in case you were wondering,” Wren said. They both sat down at the table and ate. “I would have usually made the jam with sugar, but with the war and all I feel like it would be best to work around using sugar at all, preferably to use the sugar for special occasions. You know, if it weren’t for the media and all, I would’ve almost forgotten there even IS a war happening in the first place,” he lamented while taking a big bite.

“I probably would have too,” Wilson grumbled in frustration, “if I could actually walk the streets WITHOUT being handed one of those stupid white feathers every time a woman walks past! I’m fed up of it! Just because I don’t want to kill myself they think I’m some sort of coward??” Wilson rested his hand on his forehead. “Who do they think they are?”

Wren sighed in annoyance. “Those women. What difference are they making? Same goes for the soldiers in the war. They get killed, and all for what?” They both looked at each other and their faces lit up in agreement. “Good thing I have a farm and everything. Because of it, they let me stay here instead of encouraging me to go to war,” Wren exclaimed tunefully. “Speaking of which, wanna see it? It’s quite grand!”

“I’d love to!” With that, they finished eating and hopped off to the garden.

“Might wanna put on some shoes for this, by the way!”

Wren reached for the door handle leading to the garden as Wilson stumbled towards him, trying to put on his shoes as he ran. Opening the door, Wren showed Wilson a massive garden that doubled as a farm; there were multiple animal pens in one section and a flower garden on the other. Dividing the two was a grassy section, with many vegetables and fruit trees growing. Wilson was amazed. “Hey, come here! I have something to show you,” Wren yelled while dashing towards the flowers. Wilson quickly caught up with him. “Look here! Do you see these roses, Wilson?”

“Yeah, they look great! I like how they’re…” He paused. “... orange?” He examined the roses, and he was right — all of the roses in the patch were a bright orange. “How … ?”

“Yep! I’ve recently been experimenting with rose breeding, and I found a way to grow orange roses! I mean, red and pink are pretty, especially on flowers, but doesn’t seeing the same thing all the time get a bit boring? Here,” he plucked one of them from the ground and handed it to Wilson. “For you!”

Wilson accepted the offering with a smile. He chuckled in appreciation, to Wren’s delight. They walked around the garden together, with Wren showing him around. They began joking around with each other again; after all, it’s what they naturally did. It didn’t seem like much at the time, but their sense of humour was what really brought them together in the first place. Wren and Wilson talked and laughed for a good while before coming back inside.

Wren pointed to an armchair opposite the table, facing the cosy fireplace. “Why don’t you have a seat there while I prepare some tea for us?” Wilson sat down and waited — as he waited, someone came in. It was Wry. He sat down on one of the chairs facing the table. “Hello again,” he greeted gently. “Have you been well today?”

“Yeah, things have been going great!”

“That’s always a good thing to hear. Is Wren doing alright?”

“Yeah! Or at least, I hope so. He seems to be having a swell time, though!”

“That’s always good to hear.”

Wren came through the doorway with a teapot and a few cups. He poured some tea for the both of them and himself before laying the teapot and the spare cups on the table. “Hello, you two!”

“Greetings, Wren. You seem to be quite uplifted!”

“I am!” Wren beamed as he sat down with his own cup of tea. “Hey Wry, how’ve you been today? I was just showing Wilson around the garden and such. I like him, he’s really fun!”

“Nothing much out of the ordinary has happened today… it’s been surprisingly uneventful for me. I mean, Winsor had told me about something she learnt about some of the dogs we have, but–”

_ Thump thump thump. _

“Wait, could it be?” Wry muttered under his breath. Suddenly, he got up from his chair and headed to the door. “You two keep talking, I shall be right back.”

Wren slowly rocked his leg back and forth absent-mindedly. He sat with an incredibly relaxed posture, as if he hadn’t felt so happy in ages. Glancing back at Wilson, he spoke. “I know it seems a bit strange for me to say this, but I’ve been feeling a bit sad recently. Not about anything in particular, really; I’ve just been feeling generally tired. I don’t even know why. But hanging out with you has really brightened my mood up quite a bit!” Wren looked at Wilson with a pleasant smile for a moment… until they heard two people enter the room, who were Wry and another man, who was covered in mud and leaves.

The figure next to Wry was a similar height to him; tall in comparison to Wilson or Wren. His posture was stiff and his face resembled that of someone middle-aged. His hair ran from blond to black, slightly longer than expected but other than that had the haircut of an average boy, running straight down almost like a bowl cut. Although not emphasised in his structure, he looked as if he had a lot of strength. In fact, he seemed like the kind of man that would always win in a fight. This, combined with his resting frown, provoked some kind of aggressive nature that seemed almost threatening.

That is, until he smiled.

Wry turned to the man that he had walked in with. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Warrick! Where were you even? You didn’t show up last night… What’s with all the mud?” His voice had a hint of worry and concern, but was mostly bright.

The man supposedly named ‘Warrick’ responded with “I’ll explain in a little bit, it’s a LONG story.” Suddenly, he seemed harmless; his voice, although masculine and slightly raspy, possessed a warm, childlike quality. He took a chair from the table and sat down rather clumsily. “Hey, Wren! Who’s this lad?” 

Wren smiled lightly. “Oh, his name’s Wilson, a new friend of mine. I had invited him over yesterday while you were gone, but he ended up staying the night too.”

“Ah, that’s nice.”

Wry joined in with the conversation. “So, Wilson, what do you like to do when you’re at home?”

“Science,” he said as his eyes lit up. “I’ve always had this fascination with the unknown. Other people seem to fear it– why, some even despise it, but I’m constantly on a quest for knowledge. It’s just what I do. I conduct a lot of experiments at home, reading books and seeing whatever idea I can get my hands on. I know it’ll pay off in the end! I’m going to discover something great, I just know it! I mean, of course some people say that I’m just wasting my time being delusionally optimistic, but…” Wilson sighed. Hearing that, Wren put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder reassuringly, making him smile widely.

Wry gave Wilson a soft grin. “I admire your dedication! You know, Wren has always secretly had an interest in science. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I can see it in him.”

“I have! It’s just that I haven't really gotten around to studying it… it’s kind of a shame really.”

Wilson’s face brightened up more. “That happen often? Not getting around to doing things, I mean,” he asked. “Happens a lot to me, too. I know what it feels like. Well, good thing you have me! I’d be happy to answer any scientific questions you have to the best of my ability. Who knows, maybe you’ll have something to teach me as well!”

The warmth of his voice sparked something inside Wren that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Haha, yeah!”

After a while of talking, Wilson checked his watch. “I’d best be on my way, I should get back before the sun sets.” 

“It’s a shame, although I suppose I can’t hold on forever. Goodbye, Wilson!”

“Goodbye, Wren! It was a pleasure!” 

And with that, Wilson opened the front door and left, wandering into the twilight fog surrounding them.

They devoted the next few months of their lives talking to each other, whether it was on the telephone, via letters, or just visiting each other. Over this period of time, they had built a wonderful foundation for their friendship and became incredibly close. As they spent time together one hour went into the next, Tuesday became Wednesday, October turned into November, Autumn turned into Winter… time passed much quicker than they realised, however that didn’t phase them. In fact, at this rate, they figured that it would be really easy to get through the war because, well, it couldn’t go on for that long, right? It’s probably going to end in a few months’ time, right? Nevertheless, whether the hassle of having to live in times of war was going to end sooner or later, it became less important to them over time. They had each other, and that was enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me just interject here while this version of the story is still up.
> 
> The next few chapters will be completely rewritten. I'm not entirely sure how I didn't realise it sooner, but the next few chapters (chapter 6 onward especially) have some really problematic and transphobic themes and things happened that I had never intended to happen. I genuinely regret it and I have learned from my mistakes. The new version will be a lot better, as I've put a lot more thought into everything.
> 
> Please DO NOT take this as an example of my current abilities, beliefs and mindset. They are very far from it.   
> Thank you for understanding.

Early December chills breezed through Wren’s half-open window. He laid in his bed, deep in thought. Lately he had been thinking a lot more about Wilson and their time together. He found it funny how something so simple could become so important to him. However, he began to wonder if he was thinking about him a little too much…? Usually most of his thoughts would consist of his experiences and interests, but now it was filled up with Wilson and their time together.

Throwing on a woolly jumper, he drowsily stumbled downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. As he stumbled down, he glanced at one of the clocks. It was… 6am? Why was he up so much earlier than usual? 

_ It’s fine, it’s fine… stop worrying about it so much, Wren.  _

He tried to make a cup of tea, but he could barely concentrate on anything that day. He spent half an hour staring at the ceiling instead of finishing his drink.  _ Maybe I’m just tired? Granted, it IS 6am. I should just go back to sleep…  _

After finishing his drink, he went back up to bed but he couldn’t sleep. He spent around 3 more hours just laying in bed thinking about him again.  _ Okay, something’s wrong. What’s happening to me? Why can’t I sleep? Why are all my thoughts surrounding Wilson all of a sudden? _

This didn’t seem to stop, at least not for a while. He thought about that time Wilson came to his house for the first time, about that time they laughed so hard they fell into tears, about comforting him when he was down, about… about the absolute tranquillity of sleeping in the same bed as him… giving him a rose the next morning… just being in his presence. And the times they seemed to talk so much about nothing on the phone, and how much he could remember of it. And their letters. His letters.  _ I should probably read them again. _

And he did. He spent ages reading every word over and over again, examining the scribbly but neat handwriting… he could swear he could recite them off by heart now.  _ I want to see him again. I really, really, want to see him again. I should invite him over tomorrow. No, today. No, now. I could ring him? No… maybe he’s too busy. I don’t want to disturb him… unless? _

He tentatively reached for the phone.  _ I could… ring him right now? No. Maybe? What’s the time? 9:48am already?? Well, I suppose he’d be awake! I should ring him- but what if…? You know what, it’s no use going back and forth upon the same point, I should just call him right now. But… WHY IS IT SO HARD TO DECIDE?? DO I RING HIM OR NOT?? _

But the telephone was already ringing before he came to any conclusion.  _ It’s ringing? Could it be him…? I hope so, I miss him. _

Wren picked up the phone. “Hello?”

To his utter delight, he heard Wilson’s voice via the phone. “Hi, Wren! How are you doing?”

The reasonable answer was terrible. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate on anything, couldn’t decide on anything… it was as if he suddenly lost his mind. But hearing Wilson’s voice at the end of the phone made him feel infinitely better. “Oh, I’m doing splendid!”

“Say, I know this is a bit sudden, but may I come over to your house for a little while? I could maybe arrive at… 2pm?”

“Hey, I was just about to ask you that!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was right by the phone the whole time! I think 2pm sounds wonderful!”

“Okay, sounds great! See you there!”

“Bye!! See you there!”

…

Wren placed the phone back in its holder. Everything felt so much warmer now. His face, his body, his heart… he decided to wait until Wilson came back. 

1 second passed, 2 seconds passed, 3 seconds passed, 4 seconds passed, 5… seconds… passed… 8 seconds have passed… 10… 15…  _ how many seconds are in 4 hours?? _ He could wait, though. He always has been able to. He was always a patient person. 47, 48, 49, 50…  _ is it 2pm yet? No, it’s not 2pm. However, it has been a minute… how many minutes are in 4 hours? _ 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… 1 minute and 7, 8, 9, seconds passed. 11, 12, 13, 14… 15. 16. 17. 18. 19…? 20??? 21, 22, 23… 24. 25. 26. 27. 28-  _ OH MY GOD! HOW SLOW CAN TIME BE WHEN I NEED IT TO SPEED UP THE MOST?! _

Wren watched time go by until… Wait, what time? Whatever it was, it felt like hours. “I reckon I should just lay in bed for a bit,” Wren suggested to himself. As he lay there, he became unusually drowsy, closing his eyes for… 

He woke up after suddenly napping. He sat up.

“Wren?”

He turned his head around to see Wry standing in the doorway, who tilted his head in curiosity and concern. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good…”

“I’m fine,” Wren grumbled sternly.

“For some reason, I have a hard time believing that.”

… 

_ Well? _

What was he supposed to tell him? That there’s something mentally messed up in his head? That he’s become obsessed over his best friend and now he’s lost all sense of time and sanity because he literally cannot wait for him to arrive? What was he supposed to say???

“...I don’t know…” Wren fiddled with his hair and struggled to get any words out.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why don’t you talk to me about it? Or, at least, I could try and make you something to recover your senses…? Does that sound good, Wren? Wren?”

“Huh, Oh! Sure thing!” 

_ There’s no use dwelling on something useless like that. Might as well go with Wry. _

The two went downstairs. Wren stared idly at the walls. Wry walked across to the kitchen. He prepared some tea for the both of them before gliding across to where Wren was. Wren sat in the armchair next to the fireplace. Wren seemed tired, incapable, absent-minded… this wasn’t how he usually was. “Something’s definitely on his mind,” Wry muttered to himself. He walked over to where Wren was sitting. “What’s wrong? I know there’s something wrong.”

Wren took a deep sigh and frowned idly. “I… there’s been a lot on my mind. I… I don’t know, I just… haven't been feeling like myself recently.”

“In what way?” Wry asked him.

“Well…” Wren paused. “I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about someone.” He hesitated, then continued. “You know Wilson?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“… I don’t know, am I being too petty? Well… I’ve been thinking a lot about him recently…”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“Just… thoughts. He called, and he’s going to come over today at 2pm. I’m really excited! It’s just… maybe I’m too excited? I don’t know,” Wren took a deep breath as his heart sank for what seemed like no reason at all. “I’m happy! Or at least, I should be…”

“Hey, come on. It can’t be all that bad, can it?” He reached out his arm and gave Wren a pat on the back. “You could be lonely, perhaps? I understand that having someone you’re really close to means you get lonely without them.”

“I suppose so,” Wren whispered dejectedly.

“…say, I think I might have had an experience like that when I was younger. I befriended this girl and ended up falling head over heels for her. When I was without her, I felt incredibly lonely. Of course, I was rejected and of course that died out a long time ago. I’ve never really been involved in romance with a girl since, I’ve just never found the right person. And nobody thought I was the right person for them… I was never really liked by anyone back then… Oh! Sorry, I’ve just realised I’ve been lamenting over myself instead of actually helping you. Apologies,” Wry shook himself to bring him back to Earth.

“I… I suppose so? I mean, it can’t be  _ romantic _ , can it? Ah, what do I know about romance anyway? I don’t know what it feels like. I’ve never fallen in love with anyone,  _ ever _ — in fact, I couldn’t tell if I loved someone if it jumped out right in front of me. I —”

_ Ding _ .

Was that the doorbell? Wren suddenly rushed to the front door and opened it.

“Wilson! Hello, hello! Come in!” Wren was overjoyed at the sight of him. He promptly welcomed him in and they both sat down on the sofa. “My, the hours have passed so slowly. It felt like an age had passed all before you got here!”

“I’ve missed you too! I apologise for being late, by the way.”

_...Late? Was he? What even WAS the time anyway? _

Despite Wren’s confusion, they both settled down and talked for a while. The afternoon went by relatively quickly as they wandered round the garden, explored the house, and ended up lying down just talking to each other, like they had many times before. Eventually, they sat down at the table with Wry and Winsor joining them. 

“Good evening you two,” Wry said cheerfully. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, not much. Mostly just wandering around,” Wren replied. “I mean, Wilson’s been telling me about all sorts of science-related things, and other things too. Did you know that the reason why cats walk with their paws in front of each other is to reduce noise and tracks?”

Winsor smiled in awe. “That’s so cool,” Winsor yelled, placing her hands on the table and leaning towards Wilson.. “Hey, we have a lotta dogs, do you know any dog facts??” 

The conversation was interrupted by Warrick running in with a letter in his hand. “Hey, Wren? This just came in. It says it’s for you,” he said, handing Wren the letter. Wren opened it carefully and began to read its contents. “Ah, this is Dad’s handwriting!” He read more of the letter. “Oh, right! Wait, that’s TODAY??”

“What’s today?” Wilson asked.

“My father’s hosting a sort of meet-up thing, to boost the morale of the ones not in the army. Sort of like a party but less like one, if that makes sense. I can’t believe I forgot! Well, I suppose we still have time to get ready, if you all want to come?”

“Ah, right. Sounds great! Wilson said, with everyone agreeing. “...unless it’s anything too formal. I really dislike formal parties...”

Wren continued reading the letter, but as he reached the end of it his face turned from a smile into a face of distraught realisation. “...oh no.”

“What is it?”

Wren groaned in frustration. “Oh my God, I’m so stupid! I said I’d take a girl with me because they were pressuring me so much. It was a rash attempt to shut them up, but now they expect me to bring someone even though I don’t have a girlfriend…”

“Really? You don’t? I mean, I would have thought someone as charming as you would have TONS, or something?”

“I- aww, I’m… I... th-thanks so much!” Wilson’s compliment reduced him to a state of incredible bashfulness. “Haha… anyways, so… right. As I was saying, I have no-one to bring… what should I do…?”

Winsor trotted up to him. “You mean there’s war happening and we could be open-gunfire’d on at any moment and all you care about right now is what girl you bring to your dad’s house?” She smirked.

“Well… agh, when you phrase it like that I do sound really stupid…”

“Alright, alright, I have an idea. What if…”

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, anticipating her answer.

“Erm... OH! What if one of you came with Wren! In disguise!!” She enthused. “But who…”

“I’m placing my bets on Wry. I mean, he has the hair for it already,” Wilson proposed.

“Me? Well, what about you?”

“Me???”

“I mean, think about it. I’m too tall, people would get suspicious… besides, you two get on well already–”

Warrick interrupted the discussion before anything got out of hand. “Hey! I have an idea. Considering we can’t decide on who’ll go, how about we settle the debate… in a game of chess? Winsor, would you do the honours?”

“Yes, sir!” Winsor bolted off to another room, soon coming back with a box. She opened it and set up the game.

Wilson smiled to himself. “I like the sound of this, who’s playing against who?”

“I’m the first player, the second one shall be elected by you guys.”

Wilson turned to Wren. “Do you want to play? I’d like to.”

“Go ahead!” Wren said, knowing that Wilson would probably be better at chess than him.

Winsor fidgeted excitedly in her seat. “Right, the players have been chosen! LET THE BATTLE COMMENCE! SETTLE IT IN CHESS!” Winsor yelled as she made her first move. Wilson then made his move. Then Winsor. Then Wilson. Then Winsor...

Things were slightly mundane at the start, then it started to get intense. Many pieces from both armies ran out, limiting their options and increasing the tension. Wilson and Winsor stared at each other intensely, both players avidly scheming possibilities to gain their advantage. However, there was a strong sense of confidence in Wilson, as he was winning rather smoothly. Soon there was nothing left but a few knights and pawns for Winsor, but she managed to slip out of Wilson’s grasp and…

“Ha HA! My pawn’s at your end now! That means I get another queen!”

“B...but that’s impossible! I made sure…”

“Not sure enough, bud.” She moved a knight right into his king’s path. “Checkmate!”

Wilson looked worried, his chest sunk, it seemed like the end of it. He looked down and stayed still for a couple of seconds, until...

“...heh.” Just when all hope seemed to be lost, Wilson… started laughing!

“...What’s so funny?”

He folded his arms and continued laughing before giving Winsor a smug stare. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a checkmate if I were you,” he whispered, “as I could just as easily do THIS!!!” He moved his pawn and took down the knight.

“But I…!” Winsor looked fearful “I…”

_ I was hoping you’d do that _ , Winsor thought.

She kept the look on her face as Wilson seemed to triumph over her, defeating many of her pieces. But what he didn’t know was that Winsor had something in mind...

_ Now you’ll move your pawn one space closer… _

Wilson moved his pawn one space closer.

“Uhh…” she nervously moved a knight. 

_ I know what you’ll do next! You’re going to move YOUR knight onto it! _

Wilson moved his knight onto Winsor’s.

Wilson laughed, but soon Winsor’s nervous facade broke and she laughed too.

“Hahaha… wait.”

Winsor stood up. “Well, well. Look who fell into my trap! As you see, I’ve been faking a losing posture to lift your mental state into thinking that you’re winning… but all you’ve been doing is doing exactly as I’ve wanted you to!!”

Wilson gasped.

“You see this knight over here? The one you just moved?” She slid her pawn-queen and knocked it out of the game. “That was your last one, wasn’t it, Wilson?”

_ But… that can’t be!! I swear I checked multiple times!!! _

“Now you don’t have any knights, there’s no way of you being able to fend off my pieces! I have your king completely and fully cornered.” Winsor lightly slammed her hands on the desk they were playing on. “Checkmate. HA!!!” In excitement, she accidentally flipped the table onto Wilson, causing him to tip over in his chair, chess pieces flying in all directions. “Oops, sorry...”

“Very well,” Wilson said. “I don’t think I’ve seen a kid like you with such skill before. I admire it. With resilience and intelligence like that, I bet you’re really going to go places! You have potential, and I think you should definitely make the most of it, as much as you can.”

“Yeah, people underestimate me, though. Because I’m a girl,” Winsor muttered, disgruntled.

“Well you can really prove them wrong! I believe in you, and so does everyone else here.” Wilson got up. “Now, who… wait, why are you all staring at me like that?” Everyone in the room was suddenly staring at him, stifling laughter.

Wry stepped forward. “You forgot the deal, didn’t you?”

“Deal? What de–”

Wilson froze, his eyes widening in realisation.

…

“NO.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: If you're transfem please please please don't read further oh god I fucked up I FUCKED UP pretty much every word in these next chapters is horribly transmisogynistic god I'm so sorry I love you guys yall are beautiful and I'm working really hard to make sure nothing like this happens again god I'm so sorry the rewrite will be SO much better**
> 
> **P.S. I'm deleting this entire scene (notably chapters 6-9 and any mentions of it) in the new version, good riddance piece of shit lol**

“Come on, Wilson! Come out of there!” Wren yelled into the bathroom Wilson locked himself in.

“I am NOT doing this,” Wilson yelled back, his voice muffled by the wall between him and the rest of them.

“Come on, please?”

Wilson let out a loud and frustrated sigh before yanking at the door handle, walking out in a shy manner, turning towards them and giving them a humiliated frown. He wore a long red dress, accompanied by long white gloves and a headpiece made of synthetic roses. His cheeks were as pink as he could make them with the limited resources he had and his hair was pushed down to try and seem as long as possible.

The household erupted into laughter at the sight of him, with Wilson still standing rigid with regret lingering in his eyes. “This… was a really, REALLY bad idea.”

Winsor cackled. “Your fault for agreeing to it.”

_ “It was YOUR FAULT for coming up with the premise in the first place!!!”  _ Wilson yelled in aggravation.

“Even so, you DID lose the chess match, did you not? There’s no breaking out of your own deal, Wilson.” Wry smiled and adjusted his hat.

Despite Wry and Winsor’s spirits, Warrick felt uneasy. “Uhhh… D’you reckon people will notice the outfit? I’m a bit worried for him. What would happen if someone found out? Wouldn’t that be a bit humiliating…?”

“Hey, it’s fine!” Wren beamed. “Nobody will notice. All you really have to do is keep quiet, I suppose. I don’t know much about women, but I think we could just pass you off as a shy, quiet type? Honestly, all you really need to do is hang out a bit and we could leave as soon as you want to. Besides, you look beautiful!”

Wilson smiled and rolled his eyes. He didn’t admit it, but he was rather flattered at Wren’s silly comment. “Oh, for crying out loud…”

“Don’t worry, we could take a path that I know of that’s more discrete than the standard. Nobody really knows about or uses it. It’s handy for when you need to get somewhere without many people seeing you. I’ve used it a couple times in my past, when my career was at its peak. Shall we get going?”

And so they set off. Wilson prayed to the random sequences of events that led the universe that, whatever happened, his disguise wouldn’t be discovered by anyone else. And science  _ forbid _ anyone else who knew him being there…

After taking said discrete path, they arrived at a small-ish house. Wren knocked on the wooden door, which was answered by a tall man with dark brown hair who seemed about Warrick’s age. “Hello, Wren! Good to see you again!”

“Hi, Dad! I brought my girlfriend along, with some other friends. Mind if we come in?”

“Of course, of course! Make yourself at home,” Wren’s dad said as he made a welcoming gesture. While walking in, Wry chuckled smugly at Wilson, causing him to roll his eyes.

The room they arrived in was nicely decorated, with auburn wallpaper, a few beige sofas and a cozy fireplace. On the other side of the room, they saw another man talking to a woman. There were a few others in various rooms; Wilson sighed in relief as he couldn’t recognise anyone.

Wren called out. “Walter?”

The man turned around.

“Ah, talk of the devil himself! ‘Ello, brother!” He readjusted his golden-rimmed glasses. “Glad you finally came, you’re…” Slicking back his short brown hair, he checked his watch. “...12 minutes late.”

“Says you, being 3 hours late to my house last spring.”

“Come on, I had a lot to do! Gimme a break! Aaanyways… I see you’ve brought your new girlfriend. Hah, I’ve always wanted to see…"

He paused and stared at Wilson for a while.

“...She’s fucking ugly.”

Wren and Wilson looked at him in surprise. “Walter! That–”

But before Wren could even speak, Walter started laughing. “Oh, and to think that you left who’s now my girl for… that  _ thing…  _ whatever the fuck that is?! Where are your standards???” He started heaving for breath. The woman he was with glared at Wren in spite, making him uncomfortable.

“Walter!! That is incredibly rude! I think she’s beautiful, mind you.”

“R-really?” Walter burst into another fit of laughter, clenching his stomach. He stepped towards Wilson, causing Wilson to back away a little. Putting his hand on his own chin, he sniggered. “She – should I even say she? I could swear that’s a man in a dress!” He then put his hand on Wilson’s face. “And is that stubble? Do I feel a bit of stubble?? Wren, are you a fucking homosexual or something???” He pushed himself too close for comfort. “What even ARE you? Come on! Answer me! Why won’t you talk??”

Wren’s face grew red. “WALTER, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! You have NO RIGHT to just come up to me and my darling and insult us like that! Have some respect!” He grumbled and gently put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder. “Let’s just go,” he whispered softly; the two swiftly strode away from him.

“Your DARLING?!” Walter called out, laughing hysterically as they left.

After exiting, they entered another, more crowded room. It was crowded with life, with the constant hubbub of people chatting and a pianist on the other side, playing some music. They stayed in the corner, relatively unnoticed. Wilson sighed. “So… that’s your brother?” He asked, trying to conceal his voice as much as possible.

“Yeah…”

“Wow, he’s an asshole.”

“Tell me about it…” Wren glanced down at his feet solemnly. “You’re not ugly… you really aren’t. How dare he…”

He looked back up into Wilson’s eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” 

Slowly, they began to smile; however, the moment was interrupted by Wren’s dad, who had noticed them in the crowd. “Hullo, Wren– Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Wren jolted his head around. “Oh, no no no, we were just… it’s okay. How have you been, Dad?”

“Been alright, trying to hold on for as long as I can. You know, with food an’ all that.” He turned to Wilson. “Oh, I apologise. I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Watson, the father of Wren. And you are…?”

“Her name’s... Wilrose, she told me it’s a combination of…  _ Willow _ and Rose. Her mother’s a real flower fan, she just couldn’t pick one flower…”

Watson smiled. “What a lovely name. Are you alright? You don’t seem to be talking much…”

“Oh, she’s a timid girl. She doesn’t like talking to other people all that much. I feel sort of bad for bringing her to a social gathering. However, I suppose it was more for us to just have some more time together.” Wren felt a sort of tenderness looking at Wilson. “Say, this is a nice song. Would you like to dance...?”

Wilson nodded. Wren held his hand, and they soon began to dance, with Wren’s hand on Wilson’s waist and his hand on Wren’s shoulder. Wilson let out a tender chuckle. But what Wren felt was much, much more than just a chuckle. It felt like a spark; no, a blaze had started inside him. Actually, describing it as a blaze was an understatement. It was like… it was like… He had no way of knowing or telling himself exactly what it was he was feeling. All he could really do was enjoy the moment and hold onto it. Who knows how long the dance went on for… but for Wren, it felt like an eternity. It felt like the rest of his life. Just him and Wilson. Together.

_ Wait… what?  _

Before he could get his mind around his emotions, the pianist finished the piece, and their dance faded to a stop. Soon, they were back to reality.

But Wren wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

Wry wandered into the room they arrived in. Warrick and Winsor had started a conversation with Wren’s dad and Wren and Wilson were talking to each other, doing their own thing entirely. He felt a little tired, so he decided to have a sit down for a while, away from the noise. There was nobody else in the room but Walter, slouching in one of the sofas. He strode along and sat next to him, crossing his legs absent-mindedly. Walter sat up and smirked a little. 

“Hey.” Walter whispered. Wry looked back at him, giving him a small wave.

“You, uh… from around here?” Walter asked, smoothing his hair back. Wry nodded. “Nice, nice… very nice.” He moved closer. “You came in with Wren, right? You know him? Yeah, he’s a bit of a nutter. Not worth wasting your time with. Trust me, I’d know.” He moved even closer and put his arm around Wry. “I’m a good guy, though. I can write poetry. I can treat you well. Say… My house is just around here… if you ever get fed up with him or anything of the sort, just pop by and I can give you something special, you know?” He slid his arm from around Wry’s shoulders to Wry’s leg and leaned in. “ _ I can make you feel like a real woman _ ,” he cooed. Slowly, Wry leaned towards his ear.

“Tad bit unfaithful, don’t you think?” Wry whispered back, his deep voice causing Walter to flinch in shock.

He completely overreacted, forcing himself into the other side of the sofa, his glasses tilted from the sudden move. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Wry let out his stifled laughter as Walter’s mind tried to process what had just happened. “Oh my, that reaction was absolutely priceless! You should have seen the look on your face! I mean, you were being rather rude to Wren’s girlfriend earlier, this seems a bit karmic, don’t you think?”

“Wh, I… I…”

“You know, you’re lucky I just paused it right there instead of  _ actually following through with your request until the last minute _ , hm?”

“What the–  _ God, what is wrong with you? _ ”

“What’s wrong with you, trying to seduce me into sex?”

“ _ I– I didn’t know!! _ ”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you were… you know… I really thought…  _ this is YOUR fault for looking like that! I’m not the one at fault here, men aren’t supposed to have long hair like that! _ ”

“Hold on, hold on. Let me consult the stars for an answer to that…” Wry stood up, making dramatic actions with his arms. “Yes, yes… Incredible! The answer is forming!!!” He fell back into his seat. “The cosmos have spoken, and they say that ‘No; you are, in fact, stupid.’”

“W-well I…! I, uh… don’t…!”

“Yeah, yeah. Insults don’t feel too good on the mind, do they? Well, why don’t you have some empathy and, I don’t know, actually THINK about the consequences before you insult someone on their appearance, or try and persuade a man to–”

“SHUT UP!!  _ I DIDN’T KNOW! _ ”

…

The two fell silent for a while, until Wry decided to speak. “So… you said you can write poetry?”

“Wha… well, yeah…”

“I’m a writer, too. Tell you what, we should just start over. Blank slate.” He extended his arm. “Wry Vincent Lloyd.” Walter tentatively shook Wry’s hand.

“...Walter,” he mumbled. 

“So… May I read some of your writing?”


	8. Chapter 8

“Hullo, you two!”

Wren and Wilson were chatting to each other as Watson walked towards them. “Oh! Hello, Dad! Do you need anything?”

“Not really, I just wanted to tell you and Rose here that, well, you two really have something special. When I saw you in that dance there, I could really see that you two share something not many people have. You have a connection, something purer than anything I’ve seen before. You're lucky to have each other. A connection like that is incredibly rare, especially in times like these. Hold onto it.”

“Thank you so much!” Wren exclaimed softly, moving closer and holding Wilson’s hand. Wilson beamed and gave Wren a small kiss on the cheek, surprising him. 

_ Did… did that really just happen??? _

He could feel his face burn up and lightly brushed where Wilson kissed him with his hand; after that, he smiled softly before holding him in a loving embrace.

“You see that? Cherish that. I know what it’s like when you’re not meant to be with someone, and I can see that you two really are meant for each other.” Watson smiled warmly, as if he was about to burst into tears any second. “Look at him, my little ball of sunshine all grown up and in love. When this whole war is over, invite me to be the best man at your wedding, okay?” 

_ A wedding…? _

As improbable as that was, Wren liked the thought of it. He couldn’t picture himself marrying anyone but Wilson, not really.

“I sure will!” Wren said energetically. He hugged his father before going to another room with Wilson by his side. Part of him wished that he could feel as happy as he did that moment every day. They chatted with Wry, Warrick and Winsor for a while before Wilson decided to wander around the house.

He arrived in an empty room. The room was long, with a door at either end. He entered through one and saw someone enter through the other. He thought nothing of it and walked across…

_...until he felt something grab the back of the dress he was wearing. _

“Hold on. Don’t think you’ll be going anywhere…

_ …until I have answers.” _

It was Walter’s raspy voice. Abruptly, he spun Wilson around so he was facing him. “Look, I know it’s been all fun and games, but I’ve been thinking about it. And I think it’s likely that you’re not who you let yourself on to be,” he muttered menacingly.

Wilson would have retaliated with  _ “What part of that was ‘fun’? Or ‘games’?” _ , but if he opened his mouth, his voice would immediately give everything away. He had no choice but to stay quiet.

“First of all, why don’t you talk? Are you hiding something…?” He approached Wilson slowly; however, it was only a few seconds before he suddenly thrust him onto the wall. Wilson struggled against his grip, but it wasn’t much use. “I know what you’re hiding. Trust me, you aren’t fooling anyone, and I’ll prove it!” With one hand, he attempted to feel up Wilson’s leg.

_ What the HELL does he think he’s doing?! _ Wilson started to panic as he tried harder to break free.

Walter clenched his teeth. “Damn it… stay… still! We can do this the easy way–” But before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by the loud slam of a door. He looked to his right and saw Wry in the doorway. “Wh, WALTER?! Oh for God’s… Walter, we have had this talk before!”

“But it’s not… I… it’s not what you think! I…”

There was someone else, too. 

_ “WALTER!!!” _

An enraged Wren came storming into the room. “WALTER?! JUST WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

“Look, honestly! I–”

As Walter was distracted, Wilson took this opportunity and uppercutted Walter with incredible force, knocking him onto the ground. “OW!! What–”

Wren grabbed Walter’s shoulders. “Walter, you  _ IDIOT! _ What do you think gives you the right to violate her like that?! What were you  _ thinking _ ??? Do you have ANY idea how much this kind of thing can mess someone up psychologically?? You’ve gone completely mad, you have!” 

Wilson stared at him with concern. Wren took a few breaths to try and calm himself down. “We have to go.” He said, trying to suppress his anger as much as he could. Wilson ran towards him, and Wren immediately laid his hands on his face. “Are you okay??? God, I’m so sorry… that was an incredibly disrespectful thing to do to anyone, I’m… why did I get you into this?? I’m sorry… we should... probably leave. I’ll get the others.”

They exited the room leaving Walter lying there and after saying goodbye to Watson, they all left. Eventually, they arrived back home. Wren seemed particularly agitated during the journey back and still seemed in a bad mood even after they were back at home. Upon their arrival, Wilson went to the bathroom to take off the damn costume he had embarrassed himself in; no matter how much he enjoyed his time with Wren, he wasn’t fond of the look at all. It took a good amount of time to fully remove, but he got there eventually. He then put on the outfit he had on earlier that day, which consisted of his white shirt, red vest and black trousers he seemed to wear most days. He came back and saw Wren sat down, his back hunched and his hands covering his face. “Hey… Wren?”

“God, I’m so sorry, Wilson. That was a disaster, I’m really sorry… we should have never done that… I’m so sorry…” 

“Hey, Wren, I’m okay. I promise you, I really am.”

He took his hands off of his face, revealing his sulky expression. “How do I know that you’re not just telling me that to make me feel better?”

“Well, I mean, why else would I be saying that? But that doesn’t mean I’m lying, does it?”

Wren sighed. “I’m sorry, I know… it’s just…”

“Hey, stop apologising, honestly! It was Walter who screwed things up for us. You didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, you were the reason why I enjoyed most of it! I know there were a few bad moments, but let’s not forget the good moments!” He chuckled softly to himself. “And that dance was absolutely beautiful,” Wilson lamented, twiddling his fingers.

Wren froze, completely turning red. “...you really think so?”

“Heh, I know so!” He smiled reassuringly. “Now, I feel like I should get going, unless you want me to stay a little longer?”

Wren got up and immediately pulled Wilson into a tender hug, closing his eyes. “Okay,” he whispered. He held on for as long as he could before stepping back. “Goodbye, Wilson.”

“Goodbye, Wren! Hopefully I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye!”

The door shut behind him as he left. Wren let out a yawn before heading off to bed.

Today was a complete whirlwind of emotions, he thought. Of course, Walter had to come and ruin it as much as he could, but he enjoyed his time with Wilson. Perhaps a little too much? Reflecting on what happened, he realised just how strongly he genuinely felt about him. Was that...  _ normal? _


	9. Chapter 9

Considering how much had happened and the insanity of the situation that day, Wren collapsed into his bed and slept rather easily; however, the next night wasn’t such an easy fare for him. He could do nothing but lie in bed, completely sleepless for what seemed like hours on end. He couldn’t sleep solely because his mind could only focus on one thing. Wilson.

_ It’s like it’s yesterday morning again _ , he thought. Only it was worse. Much worse. His thoughts had only spiralled deeper into madness. No matter how much he tried to resist, he couldn’t help but go back to his times with Wilson. The past few days have been completely bizarre, but out of all the events of that day, his mind today seemed to fixate on one in particular… one that Wilson hadn’t known about, or at least Wren hoped.

It was yesterday evening, when everyone was back home. He felt rather bad about what had happened, and was concerned about Wilson’s wellbeing. Wren knew that he was changing in the bathroom, so he stood up uneasily and walked along the corridor and to the room where Wilson was.

He stood beside the door quietly and listened. He wasn’t crying, or at least he couldn’t hear him crying. Wait, would he even be crying about something like that?  _ Maybe I’m just making too big of a deal about it _ , he thought. Wren ducked down and looked through the keyhole of the door just to make sure he was alright; he saw no tears or anything, so he felt a sense of relief… and something else, too. Something strong.

Something that he had soon realised… was that he couldn’t stop looking. Even when it felt like he had been there staring for much too long… he couldn’t seem to look away. 

He should have left moments ago, he knew it. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it felt too long. Was Wren subconsciously scared that Wilson wasn’t actually okay? Or maybe… no. It was time to leave.  _ Come on, Wilson’s changing here. This is a massive invasion of privacy! What am I even doing here in the first place?! _ He felt bad for it, but there was something he pondered at that moment; wouldn’t something like that be incredibly awkward and compel him to look away and… not have the opposite effect?

He forced himself up abruptly, turning to walk away; however, a gleam of light shone from the light of the room into the darkness of the corridor. He looked back. His subconscious seemed not to allow him to just walk away. Reluctantly, he turned back to the door and peered through the thin beam of light shining through.

There, he saw Wilson again, but in a clearer view. At that moment, he wore nothing but an undershirt and a pair of shorts. By the time he removed his shirt, Wren had realised something that horrified him in a weird way.

What he was feeling wasn’t really concern or fear, not even a sense of protection.

What he was feeling was admiration, attraction... lust.

He tried to bring himself back to Earth, but the more he tried to resist the more his mind and emotions wandered off to insanity. And in an instant, many images flashed to his mind that he desperately wanted to forget, but in a strange duality he couldn’t help remembering. His reason desperately wanted this to stop, but it was overpowered by lack of control over himself. 

Wren’s face burned bright red, completely helpless. A wide grin spread across his face. He couldn’t even figure out what it was that he found so erotic about it. He didn’t even know why he felt like that in the first place! Just as he was about to lose balance entirely, Wilson glanced in his direction causing a surge of anxiety that brought him back to reality. Immediately, he strode off, knowing that he was to never talk about that to anyone and just pretend it never happened. He didn’t have time to reflect on how he felt, there was just too much to think about.

But here he was, still fixating on what happened even a day after it…

He felt as helpless as he did then. All he could do was lie in bed and think about it. About him. About how he was… how he… he…

In a panic, he got out of bed and rushed to another bathroom close to his room. Stepping towards the sink, he turned the tap on and splashed some water onto his face, taking a long look at himself in the mirror.

_ What’s wrong with me? Why am I feeling like this?? He’s a MAN, for god’s sake! I’m not supposed to have these feelings for other men! It’s common sense! And yet I…  _

He glanced down.

_ Oh God, what’s wrong with me?! Why do I have to be like this?! _

He covered his face in shame. What if everyone found out? What would people think of him? What would this mean for his career? What would…  _ what would Wilson think?! How would he react to Wren thinking about him like this?!  _ He started to tremble. Something like that could completely demolish everything they’ve built together. It could demolish EVERYTHING if he lets it slip… After pondering the consequences for much too long, he made another attempt to sleep, exhausted by his thoughts.

His main concern about the whole ordeal wasn’t  _ really  _ his feelings or thoughts in the first place.

Most of all, it was that he knew that nothing could be hidden forever...


	10. Chapter 10

Wilson woke up, back at his house. Back to his science. After such eventful days, he was glad that he could have some time to himself and his experiments. He sat down in his armchair with one leg crossed over the other, scribbling down some diagrams and ideas in his charcoal-coloured notebook; it wasn't long before he got up to place the book on the nearest table. Wilson sighed and went back to his seat. 

His mind, after circling through many different things, went back to the day he saw Wren for the first time. Sure, the first time he met him _in person_ was in the debris from something in the field, but the first time he saw him dated much further back than just a few months ago.

It was sometime in 1912. His memories of the earlier 1910s were relatively hazy, mostly due to the stress of moving somewhere new and being faced with new financial problems. Although he couldn't exactly remember when it happened, he could remember the day itself as if it happened two days ago. He had booked a seat for the horse races in Cheltenham, as he needed a break from his problems. The races started right before Wilson took his seat, and the exhilarating joy he felt watching the races and feeling the lively atmosphere of the people around him caused him to laugh for the first time in a very long time. The day flew by, and Wilson’s stress seemed to have lifted off of his chest almost completely. Before he knew it, the races ended, the bets were settled, and the winner was announced. There he was. Wren Walkur!

The crowd cheered. Wren started throwing out roses, and one of them fell directly into Wilson’s lap. (He still had that rose in a small vase near the window, as he found out how to keep it alive even with most of its roots missing.) He found the man quite charming, and the admiration coming from the crowd seemed to spark his ambitions. 

_Maybe I’ll be respected like this in the future! Imagine it… Wilson Percival Higgsbury, world-renowned scientist, forever!_

The journey back wasn’t as depressing as they usually were, as the relief of the day lifted his spirits. Thinking back to when they met, it was a wonder to Wilson how, out of all the possibilities in the universe, befriending Wren was one that happened. And how one move in another direction, one decision, one event experienced differently would have changed the course of his days completely. It was bizarre, sort of like the folklore he was surrounded by as a kid. One story he could recall was something about vampires and masks of stone, and there was a…

_Wait, how does that relate again?_

He chuckled to himself. His thoughts always seemed to stray off to somewhere else completely. He got out of his chair and gazed out of the window, into the greens of the trees and grass glistening in the marigold rays of the morning sun. Gazing into nature reminded him of the garden of Wren’s house. He smiled tenderly. That man really made him feel happier than anyone, even just in thought. In fact, maybe happiness wasn’t the right word. This felt like something he had never felt before. Was there a word for it?

All the thoughts about Wren and the time they spent together caused him to wonder; how was _he_ doing today?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it.
> 
> After this chapter, the main events of the story will begin to unfurl.
> 
> Before the story continues, I just want to give a deep and sincere thank you to everyone who's read White Feather. (It now has 100 hits! Thank you!!!)  
> It's now been just under a year since I first started this story. I've spent a long time planning it out, designing the characters and writing the chapters, along with some extra scenes. I'm honestly surprised that I could even get this far! I have a lot of problems with attention, so I just expected it to be some unfinished project floating in the void of all of the projects I gave up on within the first 10 minutes if even started at all. But here I am now, having made so much progress since the very beginning of this adventure.
> 
> White Feather means so much to me. It might sound a bit sad hearing that, but it really does. And I have a lot of faith that I will finish it.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone to has read, liked and supported WF. Every little bit of support matters a lot, and it always really inspires me to keep going. I hope you enjoy the rest of this story, with longer chapters (hopefully ^^') and a lot more of everything.
> 
> Love you guys, thank you all for everything <3


	11. Chapter 11

Wren woke up, drowsy and miserable. The light of midday shone through his window. He reluctantly got up and looked out of his window. Gazing out into the distance, he saw the hill with its tree, standing tall and barren of leaves from the cold weather. He looked up and the sun’s rays were shining right down to the Earth.

 _Why is the sun...?_ He looked at his clock. _It’s noon? Already??_

Many questions swarmed Wren’s mind. _How is it noon already? I’m usually the one to get up first! How long was I asleep? How… when did I even fall asleep in the first place??_ All he knew is that he slept horribly. His thoughts kept him awake for much longer than he wanted; in fact, he just didn’t want to have those thoughts in the first place. Why couldn’t he just be normal, like he always was? Why was he acting so… _sick_ all of a sudden?

He stumbled out of his room, and was greeted by Wry, who was standing there staring idly at nothing until Wren got his attention. His head jolted up. “Ah, you’re awake! Surprising how it’s midday, yet you’ve only just left the room when you usually wake up early.”

Wren let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Yeah, I know…”

“...Say, Wren, you haven’t quite been yourself lately. Is everything alright?”

Silence.

“...I assume not. Would you like to talk about it…?”

“No, honestly… not this time. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s… too personal.”

“That’s alright, then. Although I’d suggest not bottling things up, at least to the best of your ability. Do you have a notebook you could use as a diary? If you can’t talk about it, I’d suggest writing it down.” 

“Oh, yes! I have a diary. I haven’t used it in a while, though… I know where it is though, so I’ll do just that. Thank you, by the way.”

“No worries,” Wry beamed softly. And with that, he left.

Not long after their exchange, Wren searched his shelves to find a book with a white cover, dulled by the dust that had settled onto it. He wiped off some of the dust and blew the rest of it away before opening the diary he had forsaken for so many years. Barely anything was written down, just a few notes from what seemed like a decade ago. How old was he, fifteen? Fourteen? Thirteen, even? But Wren had no time to be pondering something of no worth. He needed to get his thoughts down, and quick. Anything to calm his mind down and bring him back to Earth. _It’s okay, it’s okay... nobody will find it, right?_

After he sat down, he put his pen down onto the paper and started scribbling his thoughts away. The words seemed to form onto the paper like piles of autumn leaves. He missed autumn. Having written a page of his thoughts, he let out a sigh of relief, realising that this really did make him feel better and more calm. He always liked to talk to someone when something was troubling him and, luckily for him, has always had that friend to talk to. A friend like that was really rare to find, especially as a man, yet Wry seemed to be there for him, and in fact, everyone. Although he was used to sharing secrets with him, he couldn’t bear to tell him something like… this. Wilson was also someone who he talked to a great deal, but telling _him_ about this was _COMPLETELY_ out of the question, unless he wanted to demolish their relationship entirely... Something this embarrassing was best kept under Wren’s knowledge and his only. 

After hours and hours and pages and pages, he put his pen down, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sunlight beaming light into his room and the cool breeze that fluttered the orange curtains. A few birds were chirping away, not too far from his open window. He took this moment to just relax and enjoy the tranquility of the moment. 

_Finally, silence._

For the next couple of hours, things went on as they usually did. He talked to his friends, wrote a letter to Wilson, looked after the dogs with Winsor… He was finally at peace, so at peace that it startled him when he heard a brash knock on the front door.


	12. Chapter 12

_Knock knock knock._

Despite his shock, Wren slowly and calmly answered the door. _Who knows, maybe Wilson’s stopped by for a surprise visit!_ He gently opened the door.

“Hey, Wren! How’s it been, brother?”

It was Walter. He was holding a book. It looked familiar, to say the least.

“Oh, hello Walter.” Wren tried to shake off what happened at his dad’s house a few days ago. “I’ve been…” He paused, briefly reflecting on the many bad experiences he’s had recently. “...okay.”

Walter chuckled. “Glad to hear, glad to hear. Saaaay… you wouldn’t mind us having a chat, would you? There’s something I’d like to talk about, in private.”

“Oh, sure! Here, I’ll take you up to my room.”

He led Walter up the stairs to his bedroom and opened the door. Walter smiled lightly. “Every time I’m up here I’m always fascinated by how fancy your house is.”

“Oh, thanks!”

Walter placed his book to the left of Wren’s diary. That’s when he realised how he recognised it; the two had the exact same cover. “So you’re still using that notebook too? I remember when we first got those, when we were younger.”

“So THAT’S where I recognise them from!” Wren exclaimed. Walter sat down on a chair next to Wren’s, where he then sat with him.

“Yeah! Good times. So, anyways, uh… I came here to talk to you about a few days back. This has been on my mind for some time now, and I just need some answers. Who actually _was_ that? I might just be stupid and all, but I really felt some stubble there. I’m just a bit concerned, I know you care about her a lot, but what if she’s not who she says she is?”

Wren tensed up, not sure what to tell him. After some internal pondering, he eventually decided that it was best to say…

“...Okay, I need to tell you something. I, uh… That was actually all staged. You two were pressuring me so much about getting a girlfriend that I felt like I just HAD to say yes, and when I got the letter about the meet-up, I had forgotten all about it until I read the bit about bringing her… well, I didn’t want to disappoint you guys, so I had a friend come along in a costume and just hoped it would pass by… smoothly… I’m kind of embarrassed now, knowing that I could have just told you guys she couldn’t come or something along those lines…”

Walter froze. Then, he sniggered. Soon enough he had erupted into a fit of loud laughter. “SO… YOU… ALL THAT! ALL THAT JUST FOR... BAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh Wren, you really do crack me up sometimes! Well, for such an elaborate joke like that, you two were pretty good at acting.”

_...Acting? Oh! Uhm, yeah, right... Acting._

“Wow, you even managed to have Dad say that you two were really meant for each other! And you know how cynical he is about love with the divorce and all. Man, we probably shouldn’t tell him for a while, he really thought you two were genuinely in love.”

_...No! But it was genuine! It was! It really was!!_ Wren could swear on his life that everything he felt towards Wilson that day was true. But he couldn’t tell him. He could never, right? That would break their friendship forever, right?

“...How do you know we weren’t?”

Walter looked at him in amused disbelief. “What, you and another man?” Leaning in, his smile eventually faded. “You’re not being… serious, are you?”

“What if I was?” _No, no no no no! I should NOT have said that! Abort, ABORT!_

Walter’s faded smile turned into a confused and stone-cold stare that bore into Wren’s soul. His words were not the usual bold-and-brash they usually were, but soft and concerned. “Tell me you’re not being honest.” His threatening, condescending gaze brought a trance of horror upon Wren. Silence emptied the atmosphere of its jokey nature; the room seemed to close in on Wren, making it hard for him to breathe. He had truly dug himself into a deep pit with his own words. He desperately tried to find an escape from this disastrous situation, his insides filling with panic and anxiety. He couldn’t find a way out of it, until…

He started to laugh.

“Just kidding!!”

He forced a wheeze out of his lungs. “Oh, you should have seen the look on your face!! I had you good!!! You took the bait completely!!!” It took every inch of his willpower to fake his laughter, but he somehow managed it. Poorly. Walter, however, bought into it.

“OH… OH MAN, YOU GOT ME GOOD!!” Soon, he joined in, laughing naturally. “Ohhh… I swear, the things I was prepared to say for that!! Seriously, I was about to go on a whole tangent! I was so prepared to stand up and yell ‘Have you ever picked up a Bible in your life?! What kind of disgusting, sick fuck do you think you even are?!’ And I swear I was about to grab one just to beat you to your senses and leave you lying there!! Please, please!! Don’t scare me like that!!” He howled.

Wren felt deeply disturbed and even more anxious than before, but he had to hide it. He had to. As far as he knew, his whole life depended on it. In a panic, he reached for a nearby clock. “Good heavens, would you look at the time! I’m so sorry, but I’ve just realised we’ve arranged something. I’d hate for this to sound rude, but may you please leave?”

“Ah, that’s okay. I myself hate overstayed welcomes, so I shall take my leave. I mean, I’ve got what I came for, eh? And more! I always like a good laugh.” Walter stood up and grabbed the book on the right of the desk. “Buongiorno!”

“ _Buongiorno_ means _good morning-_ ”

_Slam._ He shut the door on Wren’s face before he could say another word.

“...Stupid,” Wren muttered to himself.

_Well, on the bright side, at least he’s gone now._

He sighed. That was horrifying. How could Wren have been so stupid to have almost told Walter about how he truly felt about Wilson? WALTER, out of all people?!

Well... that didn’t matter for the time being.

He was gone, for now.


	13. Chapter 13

The slam of his front door resonated throughout the quiet village as he stepped into his little house.  _ Finally, I’m back _ . His footsteps echoed through the hallways and into the few rooms surrounding them. He hung his coat up on his discoloured coat hanger and sat down in his armchair, but there was nobody around to greet him. He lived alone. For him, that was how things should be. 

With the same old grey suit jacket with a beige tie, he sighed at the monotony swirling with the cold breeze that dragged its way through the house. Just a normal day. He must have spent hours in that chair, just sitting and waiting for something to happen. Anything. A sound, a voice, a feeling… but nothing of the sort ever came. His surroundings always just answered him with nothing but silence. But hey, that’s how it always has been. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Of course, he would try to escape his house as much as he could. He would do anything to escape the monotony and emptiness… but even that was better than interacting with that stupid, prissy, effeminate mess that he called a brother. Wren had more than he deserved. He always won people over with some kind of ‘charm’ that Walter didn’t have and, in fact, couldn’t see. As far as he was concerned, people just fell into his arms. Everyone loved him. They always have.

Sometimes he wondered; what it would be like if Wren had just... died at birth? How would his life be different? For the better, most likely. Maybe if he did, father would have treated him just a little better, enough to propel him at least somewhere in life. But no, that couldn’t happen. That was Wren’s thing. It always was.

He just didn’t get it. Wren, ultimately, had no purpose to live; arguably, though, he didn’t either. Did anybody? 

No. Not really.

Was he the only one who just saw grey puppets in the shadows of people, knowing ultimately of their meaninglessness? That one day, they’ll just drop dead, like a fly, and eventually be removed from this Earth? That everyone in this almost God-forsaken dump wanders around aimlessly, subconsciously waiting for the release of death? 

Yeah. Pretty much.

Still, he found no solace in anything. No talents, no hobbies… apart from some forced poetry that might get him some recognition eventually (the romance genre seemed popular and accepted among others, so that’s just what he stuck with). Most of his days just swooped by apathetically. That was how he knew it, for years. Perhaps even a decade, he didn’t know.

I mean, none of that really mattered anyway.

Minutes dragged by in their familiar fashion, with the ticking of the grandfather clock eventually scratching itself into Walter’s ears and mind until it became painfully overbearing.

He sighed and reached for the pale book he took home. Maybe, eventually, he’d get somewhere with his writing. Or anything for that matter. Absolutely anywhere, anyone… _ please, God, ANYTHING!  _

But for now, he just… seemed to… drag on with all until... 

_ Hang on a sec! _

Upon opening the book, Walter was met with an unforeseen surprise.

  
  


***

  
  


Wren sprawled idly across his bed. Just like recent days, his thoughts grew restless. But, his worry had subsided because he now knew how to at least keep his thoughts in control. The idea of it comforted him, at least a little bit. He lifted himself off of his bed and sat down at his desk at the other end of the room. But… where was the book? He searched for it… searched some more… looked in the cupboards… still nothing. He searched and searched, but he couldn’t find it. Where was it??? What would he do if he couldn’t keep his mind in check? He quickly began to panic.  _ Where is it?? For the love of God, where is it????  _ He frantically searched everywhere he could think of, looking at many of the cupboards multiple times.  _ What could have happened? Okay, okay… where did I see it last? It was… when Walter came in. Okay. So he… when he put the book down… the… wait a second… what if… _

_ The book… _

  
  


_... _

  
  


_ Oh! _

Wren checked below the desk, and there it was. “Oh!” He laughed to himself.  _ Haha, yep, that’s me alright! Checking in all the places EXCEPT where it actually is. I wish I could find things more efficiently, it would save me so much time... I also wish I didn’t overreact to everything so severely! It’s completely unreasonable, especially with something so petty… _

Brushing the dust off of the diary, Wren sighed in relief. He opened the diary and flicked through some scrawlings…

And some more scrawlings…

And… 

_ …wait a second.  _

Something wasn’t right.

He doesn’t remember writing this much before starting the diary entries… and this handwriting is scruffier than his… wait, it was Walter’s!  _ That means this... is Walter’s book?! _ He read through some of the pages, and he was right; the pages were filled with shallow, romantic poetry. Bad poetry. Wren scoffed a couple times reading through it. Even  _ he  _ knew that there was absolutely NO passion behind it! And to think that it was something Walter bragged about a lot… wow.

Well, Wren couldn’t go laughing at his brother’s bad poetry forever. He knew that he needed to give the book back to him. Considering it was already quite dark outside, he decided to settle for when tomorrow comes today. After all, Walter wouldn’t have noticed that he had mistakenly taken Wren’s diary in place of his, right?

_ … _

_ Oh. My. God. _

The reason Wren had Walter’s diary was because… Walter had Wren’s. He accidentally took it upon leaving an hour ago! The one person... out of everyone he knew... who would give him the most trouble... now had all access to his deepest, worst thoughts. He began trembling profusely. “No, no, nonono NO!!!!” He grabbed the back of his head and almost fell to his knees, shaking and hyperventilating. This was it. And it was his fault. If Walter got his hands on Wren’s private thoughts, it would be over. It would all be over. Life as he knew it would practically end. And it was all his fault.

If he didn’t go screwing himself over and causing this upon himself in the first place, he would have been able to maintain his perfect image and keep everyone around him happy. But of course, he could do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but screw things up for everyone. Maybe in time, all his loved ones will probably realise how much of a joke he is. He’ll be thrown out, rejected by his peers, and probably be forced to live a life of solitude and loneliness and…

_ Wren, it’s FINE. STOP BLOODY OVERREACTING! NOTHING BAD HAS HAPPENED YET, THERE’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. YOUR LIFE IS NOT OVER. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YOU ARE  _ **_FINE!_ ** _ THE ONLY THING DRIVING YOUR LOVED ONES AWAY IS YOUR CHILDISH EMOTIONS! HOW DO PEOPLE EVEN PUT UP WITH YOU?? HOW DOES ANYONE EVEN SEE ANY WORTH IN YOU??? AND HOW DO YOU EVEN CONSIDER YOURSELF A MAN, ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR SICK FEELINGS TOWARD WILSON AND ALL THAT! YOU’RE DISGUSTING. SURE, PEOPLE DON’T SEE IT SOMEHOW, BUT YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A BURDEN TO EVERYONE…  _

Wren stumbled lethargically, trying to regain stable balance. Despite how much he so wished he could just shut it off, the voice in his head was true; nothing bad had happened just yet. It was okay. He was fine, for the most part. Wren just needed to make sure that he got his own diary back before Walter even suspects a thing...


	14. Chapter 14

Walter slammed the diary shut after reading until the very last page.

He stared intensely at it, his face part disgust, part disbelief, part disappointment. He hoped he would never end up dealing with the people of this Earth that were considered by his world as ‘abnormal’ or ‘shameful’... but his own brother, Wren... His own brother was... a homosexual? That wasn’t how things were meant to be. They never were. Nobody was like that! Nobody!

What Walter had seen as an elaborate prank at first soon emerged into... a strange, twisted  _ truth  _ in which he was not prepared to deal with. He had always seen him as being out-of-line with his petty behaviour, but this... this was ridiculous.

He felt ashamed.

How could Wren lie to so many people? How could he lie about being perfect so blatantly to everyone? Especially when, deep down, he’s  _ not right _ ? If anyone found out, he’d be fucked  _ for sure _ . One slip and his entire career down the drain, right? Nobody would like him after hearing about something like that. All respect would be lost with something like that.

Thinking about it, Walter had the power to ruin Wren’s life right at his fingertips. One slip, poof. Gone. Because Wren had something fundamentally wrong with him... that people would actually agree with. For once, people would actually believe and listen to Walter. About how there’s something wrong with Wren, something that isn’t just ‘subjective’. He now had the whole world on his side. The whole world. Everyone. Something that he never had before.

If he were to speak up against Wren, that would be perfectly reasonable. If he were to beat him up, well, serves him right! Right? Who cares? He’s a fucking homosexual, he NEEDS to be corrected; in fact, beating him up would be the right thing to do in this case!

Walter felt anger welling up inside him.

“Serves him right. If he thinks he can just prance around like a little fucking happy-go-lucky pony, then he needs to think otherwise! Just fucking going around, ruining people’s lives like it’s a coffee with biscuits on a Sunday morning, running around with his arms flailing thinking he’s SOOO PERFECT when he is not a functioning member of our country in the slightest! He’s nothing but a fucking disgrace to England! Yeah... I’ll make sure he gets every single little fucking bit of what he REALLY deserves...” Walter clenched the diary in his hand in sheer rage. “This isn’t something that can be easily forgiven, Wren... taking more than you can afford... if karma worked like money, you would have stolen your entire life after choking the shopkeeper with a gag!” He was shaking and almost foaming at the mouth, yelling into the cold abyss he always knew; but instead of the helplessness the shadows conjured, he now had a flickering confidence in his deed.

His tone was now entirely wrathful, as if he was using the shadows from every hidden corner to propel his words. “You can’t truly get away with anything in life, your sins always bite you in the back when the time comes. And today, they’re right behind you, Wren. They’re crawling on your back with slimy little fingers and writhing mouths, calling for destiny. And with a life built as pointless and empty as mine, I don’t see how I wasn’t made to adopt this purpose. Mark my words, Wren Walkur, I’ll have you with your head on a BLOODY STAKE!!!”

He marched outside with fury. An intense feeling, and an intense purpose. He looked up.

He stared coldly into the sky. “My journey starts now.”

He strode to Wren’s house accompanied by the hands of Hell. His pacing sped up until soon he was running as if fueled by the fires of the unknown.

Could anything be safe from the destruction held in the path of a distorted new-found purpose after all these cold years?


	15. Chapter 15

Still quivering, Wren paced around his room.

_ Look, it’s FINE. He probably hasn’t even picked it up yet. _

_ But what if he has???? _

_ He wouldn’t have. _

_ But what if he has??? There’s definitely a possibility... _

_ Wren, you have nothing to worry about. Please, just be quiet. _

The conversations in his mind always turned into an endless loop of aimless arguments at times like these, flicking back and forth over the same points for years on end.  _ It’s funny how vivid my thoughts are, even when I’m not saying a word… although I wish it didn’t feel like my thoughts keep ridiculing me so much. Why can I only see my flaws? Can I really not do ANYTHING to gain my own approval? _ He lightly chuckled to himself.  _ Imagine being so pathetic that you can’t even gain YOUR OWN approval. If I can’t even respect myself, does anyone respect me? COULD anyone respect me? _

He smiled gently and solemnly; after all, what else could he do when this was almost his mind’s default state?  _ Is it because I’ve had so much of a cushioned life for the most part, that my thoughts are like shards of shattered glass that cut into my self-esteem to make up for it? And people tell me to ‘man up’ about it as if that’s not what I’ve been trying to do since childhood… is it severe fragility? Or is it supposed to prove strength as a person maybe? Yeah, that’s what I’d like to believe. Shame that it just isn’t true. All I really know is that they’re there, and as much as I’d like them to, they aren’t going to leave my mind any time soon…  _

But even after being accompanied with the voices for so long, the noise was overwhelming at times. Today… more than ever.

Wren stumbled heavily down the stairs and into the living room, greeted with the warm lighting and the familiar comfort of the furniture. He could hear the rain from outside as he sat on the armchair; it was comforting in its own way. Wren sat there in silence, listening to the sounds of the rain. For that short moment, Wren almost felt at peace, as if he really was just sitting there in his warm living room without a care in the world. 

But Wren’s moment of tranquillity was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

It was only by the time Wren had walked up to the door that he realised just who could be there to greet him. In an instant, he turned around as fast as he could, preparing to run and hide… but it wasn’t fast enough. 

He heard a sharp bang behind him as the door thrust open with incredible force.  _ Oh, right. Of COURSE I forgot to lock the door. OF COURSE I HAD! _

Slowly and hesitantly, Wren turned back around to be met with a cold scorn that, having been soaked by the rain, faintly glistened in the light from the living room. Walter’s breathing was deep and heavy, his stance determined but slightly limp against the door. 

_ He sure is out of breath… could it be that he’d run here from somewhere far away? Has he come all this way from his house?  _

The atmosphere of the room was quickly robbed, yet again. Nothing could combat against his derisive expression and the grinding, recurring thought that Wren had no way out of something like this. 

It wasn’t until around a minute later that Walter’s intense expression flickered to a disarming smile, his stance straightening up to appear harmless. 

_ “Hello, brother.” _


	16. Chapter 16

Wren tried to control his jagged breathing and force himself into the same illusion of composure that Walter presented. He turned, smiling unconvincingly. “Hello…!” Wren murmured, his voice noticeably wavering. 

Walter let out a confused laugh. “What are you so afraid of? It’s only me.”

_Wait… did he know? Does he know? Was all this panic REALLY unnecessary?_

The friendly, disarming grin Walter wore slowly hardened with each second. His stare seemed to last forever before it was broken with a scoff. “Well… I thought I had quite a few questions to ask, but it seems that you already know what’s going on here.” 

Wren trembled and took a step back, carefully examining Walter’s face; this time, it was blank. He couldn’t sense anything from it. At that moment, Wren had no idea what to expect. What’s going to happen? What is he going to do next? 

_Should I be afraid?_

They stared at each other in silence. In this moment of tension, Wren heard the sound of the rain pouring. But instead of feeling the peace and tranquillity from it, the rain lashed down in anger, basking in the peril that had now surrounded him. In this final moment, Wren stopped to wonder; it’s funny how a single sound can change so much in meaning depending on the situation.

The moment ended. The silence was replaced by Walter’s sluggish footsteps that resonated through the emptiness and blocked out the sounds of the rain. He reached under his soaked blazer and revealed a book with the old familiar cream cover. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

Walter stepped forward, backing Wren to the wall beside the kitchen doorway. He moved closer and closer until Wren felt the wall creeping on his back. Another silence. The silence tightened around Wren’s chest like a nightmare from the darkest corners of one’s memories, grinding the seconds past unbearably.

Eventually, Walter spoke against the deafening silence.

_“You’re a shameful excuse of a man.”_

Walter gripped the diary in his hand tightly. He raised his arm up. He swung his arm with brute force and landed a hit right on Wren’s face. Wren flinched in pain, covering the place where Walter hit him with his hands. He tried to run away with tears welling in his eyes, but he suddenly fell to the floor after receiving a strong knee to the groin. It took a few seconds for him to process the shock, the pain and the terror of the situation.

Wren tried to speak through his tears. He wanted to yell at Walter, scream for help, anything to get himself out of this, but upon his first word Walter instantly covered his mouth with his hand.

“Shut UP!! _SHUT UP!!!_ I DON’T NEED TO HEAR _ANYTHING_ FROM YOU ANYMORE!!” Walter yelled, his face a mixture of wrath and lust for power contorted into a gnarly grin. “You’re _nothing,_ you hear me? I don’t see how ANYONE sees any worth in you at all!” He smacked him against the wall, laughing in a sadistic manner. “I always knew there was something up with you. You act like you’re so fucking perfect all the time, and pulled everyone else into that delusion. It’s like I’m the only one who could see that, well, you don’t deserve it all, if anything! But now! Now I know why!!” Walter paused, staring directly into Wren’s tear-stained eyes. “Because no matter what anyone else thinks… _you’re just a bloody homosexual.”_

Walter stood up, still locking eyes with the man on the floor. He shook his head. “I’m disappointed, Wren. I truly am. You’re not _nearly_ the man I once thought you were. You were excellent as a kid, but you just HAD to grow up into a prissy, effeminate bitch flailing his arms about like a little girl expecting everyone to love him when, deep down, he’s an absolute fucking trainwreck of a human being who can’t even remember to lock his own front door even if his life depended on it-”

“STOP IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP! PLEASE!!” Wren yelled in severe pain. But his plea for mercy was only answered with a cold scowl.

“‘For the love of God?’” He chuckled sardonically. “Bold words for someone who opposes Him.” Wren tried to speak a second time, but couldn’t say a word through his sobbing. “Awwww, what’s the matter? Little baby, are you crying?” He brutally kicked him in the chest. “Good. I’m glad. After all, I wouldn’t expect you to man up, not in a thousand years.” Walter frowned in patronising melancholy. “What if I told someone? What would people think of you? What would it mean for your career or your friendships? Oh! What would…” He crouched down, showing blatantly fake sympathy. “What would Wilson think of you?” He cooed.

Wren felt a sharp jolt of pain, not from Walter punching or kicking him or whatever cruel act he could think of, but from those words. It was as if needles pierced through his heart. It was as if Walter dug into Wren’s mind and picked the exact things he was so afraid of, only to use them as poison darts against Wren’s very soul. He tensed up. 

“Now, I don’t know much about the lad, but I bet he’d be shocked. Terrified. Disgusted. He’d probably say this.” Walter spoke in a higher, mocking pitch. “‘Wren! You know what, Wren??? I don’t want to be your friend anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be ANYTHING to you! You absolutely DISGUST ME. You perverted, pathetic excuse of a human being! I can’t believe you tricked me into ever liking or even TOLERATING you! You’re a disgrace to God, you’re a disgrace to all of your friends and family, and you don’t deserve a penny of what you have on this God-forsaken Earth! You deserve to be hanged and burned!! Don’t even bother talking to me again! You’re dead to me, you hear me Wren??? DEAD. TO. ME!’ What would he do next? Perhaps kick you until you’re bleeding? Maybe feed you to your dogs? What do you reckon, you fucking homosexual?”

Wren stood up with all the strength he could muster, shaking and breathing heavily. In a brief moment of courage, he cried out, all of the pain he endured resonating in his lungs and mind:

“HE WOULD _NEVER_ TURN ON ME LIKE THAT!”

_...Would he?_

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, WALTER! YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!!!”

Walter’s grin remained.

“Oh, Wren… my stupid little brother - should I even call you a brother? - you don’t understand anything, do you? The thing is, saying that you’re gonna kill someone is a sign of weakness. And if you say it before you've actually done it...

...you’ve already lost.”

Walter wrung his hands around Wren’s neck and forced him against the wall, choking Wren. “Oh yeah, and if you even so much as TRY to have sex with Wilson, or any other man for that matter…” He let go of Wren suddenly, causing him to fall back onto the floor. “I’ll snap his neck and then yours.” He scowled. "Oh, and if you tell anybody about what just happened, always remember that I have... a bigger secret to confess. And it's to do with _you._ You know what I mean, don't you? Or are you too fucking dense to figure it out?" His voice changed back to his mocking impression. _"Dead to me, Wren! DEAD TO ME!"_

He turned his back on him and walked off, leaving Wren lying there in all forms of agony. As Walter reached for the front door, he heard the sound of a small bell behind him. It was the cat that Wren owned, also called Wilson. It hissed fiercely at him, its fur stood on end. Walter approached it and relentlessly stomped on its body with one move. Wren couldn’t even move to stop him, not in the slightest. He was powerless.

Wilson’s tail stood up in fury. It let out a yowl and started to run after Walter at an incredible speed, scratching his leg and chasing him out of the house. Silence, again. But this silence didn’t carry the feeling of peace or immediate danger, but a solemn emptiness. The rain pattered against the windows in a dragging melancholy, only barely filling the void of confusion and sorrow that surrounded Wren.

Wilson slowly trotted towards Wren, and with the little strength he had left he reached out to Wilson and started petting it with an outstretched hand. “Hey…” The cat came closer to Wren as he slowly and painfully sat up, soon sitting on his lap. Wren gently stroked its neck, cuddling it closely and comforting it as much as he could. 

“Hey… Wilson… kitty… it’s okay… it’s alright. I’m here for you. He won’t be able to hurt you. You don’t need to be scared, I’m here… I love you…”

His soft smile immediately broke into weeping. Wilson didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserved anything like that, especially when they’ve done no wrong.

And yet…

He gently kissed its forehead, reflecting on what had just happened. As he softly held his beloved cat, only a single thought surfaced; how was he supposed to protect everyone he loved if he couldn’t even protect himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading.
> 
> Chapters 1-14 were pre-written chapters, however considering I've posted them all I'm now having to write these as I go.  
> For that reason, I'm now going to be releasing chapters every Wednesday instead of every Wednesday and Friday.  
> Thanks for understanding, and thanks for reading WF. I know I've said it a lot, but every read means so much to me. <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm really sorry about the 2-week hiatus, stress kinda got the best of me there.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next chapter! :D

He woke up to a bright light shining above him, his vision blurred and confused. As he woke, he could see three figures around him; the comfort of where he lay combined with the light, soft whispers of his loved ones bringing a feeling of comforting familiarity. It was only then that he had realised where he was. He was in his room, lying in his bed… with no recollection of how he got there. The door rattled, and someone else arrived.

His vision had somewhat focused. In the shadow of the doorway, he saw the tired but friendly face of the man that he knew all too well, stepping into the room. 

Wilson looked exhausted, barely being able to keep his eyes open. Upon seeing him, Wren felt a spark of joy. His eyes, although lethargic and heavy, opened; his face forming a wide smile of helpless endearment.

“Wilson!”

But soon enough, the memories came flooding back. He remembered why he was there and what had happened. His eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw the look of concern on everyone’s faces - Winsor’s more than anyone. Before he could react, he felt a searing pain in his chest, his arms, his legs...

“He’s awake!!” Winsor bolted towards Wren, giving him a strong hug. “Wren! I thought you got killed or something! What the  _ heck  _ happened?! I just heard screaming from downstairs and… something, I don’t know… was that Walter I heard?? I couldn’t hear what he said, only shouting… Wry said to wait a bit before going downstairs just to be safe… and after a bit we went to check on you and you was just lying there unconscious, hurt and everything!!” She held back her tears, clutching Wren tightly. “What happened??”

Warrick stepped forward. “You seemed really beat up… the cat was in your arms, and it didn’t seem to be able to move much either. We put it on my bed, it hasn’t moved since… Like Winsor, I didn’t hear exactly what anyone said, but… well, whatever happened, you two must have taken a serious beating...”

Wry could do nothing but stare into Wren’s eyes, a look of melancholic horror overtaking his usual smug front.

“Wait… wait… hold on… hold on a minute…” Wilson’s voice was breathy and slightly slurred in exhaustion. “So… what… Wren? What do they mean… Walter? Screaming? Cat? Beating? What h… are you alright, Wren?? What… what’s the time??” He rubbed his eyes.

Wry pulled out a pocket watch, painted sky-blue with a pattern of the stars. “I believe it’s around 1:49am.”

“What? 2am??? Why… why was I called here at 2am? I was  _ just  _ planning to go to  _ sleep  _ before you-”

_ “HAVEN’T YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION?!” _ Winsor yelled. “Wren’s hurt! He needs your help! You can heal and stuff, right? Don’t you care?!”

“Wha- I do!! Why… don’t try and tell me I don’t care! I care very much, thank you!!”

Wry put a hand on her shoulder. “Winsor, it’s okay. He’s just tired. We just need to give him a bit of time.” 

She sighed. “I know, I know… I’m sorry Wilson, I’m just really scared! I don’t know what’s happening!! Is he gonna DIE???”

Wilson tripped over his feet, frantically trying to retain his balance. “HEY! Please, please! Hold on! Hold on a minute!!” He fought his eyes open, desperately trying to focus on the situation despite his severe exhaustion. “I… I don’t know WHAT the HELL is going on here… I don’t know what… what is happening or the… situationnnn… what does the cat… beating the Wal...ter? Wren?”

Wry was about to answer, but before anyone could say a word in response to Wilson’s confused words… he started sobbing. “Stop saying… Wren is… I’m… I DON’T WANT TO LOSE WREN!!! STOP… SAYING HE’S GONNA… HE COULD…” he bawled. “PLEASE!!! HE’S… THE BEST FRIEND… I CARE… H-HIM A LOT!! He’s been the best person… I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’D DOOO!!!! I… I don’t know what I’d dooooo…”

“Hey, Wilson! It’s okay! Wren’s just a bit hurt, is all. Look, he isn’t going to die. We invited you over because you’ve talked about being experienced in some medical areas before, and we thought you might be able to help.” He chuckled. “Besides, Wren really enjoys your company! Oh, I sincerely apologise for bringing you here at such a time, I understand you’re incredibly tired. We shall explain what we can tomorrow, though I think now we all should get some sleep. Does that sound fair?”

Wilson nodded, trying to wipe away the tears with his hand. “Yeah, that sounds fine… sorry about bawling like that, that… a bit childish… very childish… it wasn’t very… I’ve not very been all that logical of some thinking… words aren’t coming out straight very much’nt… Um, that’s not right… wait a minute-”

“Emotional episodes are perfectly normal when you’re that tired. We understand. It would probably be wise for all of us to go to bed now. Warrick, Winsor, I feel we should probably leave these two be.”

With that, Wry left the room along with Winsor and Warrick, closing the door behind them. Wilson stumbled to the chair beside Wren’s bed and sat down, staring at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

Wren grinned softly as if his pain dissipated due to the simple feeling of appreciation, of just being glad that Wilson was there with him. “Yeah,” he whispered. Wilson grabbed the chair and shuffled closer to him so that the chair was almost against the bedframe. He grinned with him, clumsily placing his hand on Wren’s face. 

“Heyy I’m sorry for… being a bit sad… crying a bit… like a monkeyyyyy…?? No, no, that’s not right. Monkeys don’t cry… or… do they? I don’t know I’m not making… much sense right now I know… science is reallllly interesting, you know that, Wren?”

Wren chuckled. “Wilson, are  _ you  _ okay?”

His hand gently slid off. “Wren… you know, science is really great, and you… you are really great too! Realllly hell of a guy! With… science, we discover the wonders of the universe and all that… so many discoveries are out there waiting to be solved… answered… sometimes, I don’t know what a word means, and…”

Wren felt Wilson’s cheek rest against his, the same place that he put his hand. He didn’t move much afterwards. “Wilson…? Wilson? Wilson!” He didn’t respond.

_ Did… did he just pass out mid-sentence??? _


	18. Chapter 18

“...I spend a significant amount of time _just_ to find out what it means! I know it sounds a bit pathetic, but hey, that’s merely scratching the surface of what I’d do for knowledge and science!”

_…?_

Wren opened his eyes as Wilson abruptly shook his head. “Did I just… did I just pass out?”

“...Apparently so!”

“Oh?” Wilson snickered as his senses slowly recovered. “My, was I really that tired?? Hey… what’s… what’s the time?”

Wren glanced at the clock on his bedside table.

“4am?”

“4am… What? I swear it was around… 2am about two hours ago?”

“Well, that _is_ how time works, I’m pretty sure!”

“...Right. I suppose that _is- AAUUUGHHH!!”_

“Wha- Wilson! Are you okay? What’s wrong??”

“Stars and atoms, my neck… my back… they hurt so much! What kind of posture… well I suppose I _did_ pass out, slumped over on a chair with my head on yours for a full two hours…”

Wren and Wilson thought to themselves for a moment, the silence broken by Wren’s suggestion. “Do you think you would be comfortable sleeping here again? I don’t want you going around doing things with only two hours of sleep, you could… hurt… yourself? Or just, you know, feel really tired??”

“Oh, I’m used to it,” Wilson murmured as he almost dozed off a second time, just barely jolting up in his seat. “...Okay, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Do I need to change or anything, like last time?”

“Oh, you don’t need to. It’s okay.”

Wilson hesitated at first, but eventually followed through with Wren’s request, taking off his shoes and getting into the bed from the left. With that, they both fell asleep.

***

Wren stood still, a bitter breeze flowing through his hair. Grey filled the skies as the feeble sunbeams cast on the ground around him, the dry, straw-like grass pricking at his bare feet. The land seemed devoid of any living species, with the occasional starving hare hopping hopelessly around the edges of the giant crack in the ground in front of him. On the other side, Wilson laid face down on the grass.

“WILSON!!!”

Wilson crawled to his feet, concealing his chest as he stared at the floor for some time. Slowly, he lifted his head up to look at Wren. Whatever distance they were apart, Wren could feel a cold, piercing stare of disapproval all the same. 

From him. Wilson.

“...What even are you?” Wilson’s supposed voice echoed through the broken, barren fields. “No human would ever do anything like this.”

Wren knew. He had ruined the lands. The creatures living here now were either starving or starved. The plants had withered and every rabbit he could ever hope to reach was dead. 

“They’re all gone, Wren. Every last one.” Wilson took his hand off his chest, revealing a beige tie. 

“And it’s all your fault.”

Wren tried to cry out, but his voice was muffled and inaudible.

“The grass would be greener without you around.”

The sky darkened, his surroundings fading into greyscale. And the sky continued to darken. It darkened until there was almost nothing left except Wilson and the crack at the centre of everything. Wilson’s shadow illuminated with an orange light that shined in his eyes and the outlines of his silhouette.

“The Wren I knew was a good man. Why did you have to end up like this to everyone? Whatever you are, you disappoint me and everyone else constantly.” Tears with the same vibrant light streamed down his face.

“I always knew you were a fraud.”

Sobbing, Wren fell to his knees, his grating cries of despair getting louder and louder until his voice alone filled the emptiness of the dark fields. 

Bright light began shining through the cracks, the world shaking out of its form. Everything around Wren was being consumed by the burning white light.

But even with his blinding surroundings, he could still see Wilson there. The mourning tears stopped, and he was now looking bug-eyed, his eyes tear-stained and his head tilted. Wilson said one last thing before Wren screamed, drowning in the light.

**“You’re dead to me, Wren.**

**Dead. To. Me.”**

***

Wren’s eyes jolted open in horror. 

It took a while for him to comprehend whatever just happened before realising with a breath of relief that all of it was just a dream. Everything was alive and Wilson was okay, sleeping soundly in his arms. He closed his eyes again, hugging Wilson closer and just feeling glad that they were both alive, well and together... 

...that was until he realised how odd it was for them to be sleeping like that.


End file.
